Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison
by HorseLoverTW
Summary: An alternate version of HBP and DH with more focus on Hermione's character than in the books. Picks up with Hermione's conjured canaries and Harry comforting her without being interrupted by Ron and takes off from there. Eventual H/Hr.
1. Canaries and Cons

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Canaries and Cons**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything really. The plot a little, but I'm sure this has been used before somewhere.

A/N: This takes place right after the match against Slytherin in the Half Blood Prince. It's a sort of what if? What if Hermione had acted a little smarter in book the six? How would events play out? And I realize that this chapter is mostly all feelings and whatnot, but deeper into the story, I hope to explore how Hermione might have changed events in HBP, and in book the 7 which will be on bookshelves in (looks at watch…roughly six hours!!! YAY!!) Ok, sorry, on with the story. Oh! Btw, please review.

"_With a sinking feeling, he thought he saw a mane of bushy brown hair whipping out of sight..._

_He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher's desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair. Harry could not help admiring her spellwork at a time like this."_

_-JK Rowling, __Half Blood Prince_

Hermione looked up, and a sharp pang of pity hit Harry as he saw tears littered down her face. She hastily wiped them away and gave Harry an extremely painful looking grin. "Oh, hello, Harry." Her voice sounded scratchy and brittle. "I was just…err…practicing."

"Yea, they're…umm… really good Hermione." Harry felt so awkward. He had no idea what to say to her. How do you comfort your best friend when she's jealous of your other best friend?

Hermione never gave him the chance though as she said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, "Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations." Some of the flittering birds seemed to convulse as she said this, almost as if the anger she felt was physically lashing out at them.

"Er…does he?" Harry knew that was the wrong thing to saw even before it left his lips.

"Don't pretend you didn't see him!" A choked sob escaped Hermione. In a quieter voice, she added, "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was he?"

Harry didn't say anything, but instead moved to sit next to her on the large old desk. She scooted over to make room and there they sat, side by side. Harry sitting on his hands, feeling uncomfortable with the situation, but unable to leave his friend by herself, and Hermione staring fixedly at the floor with a vehemence that would have left even Snape gasping.

After what seemed a very long time, Hermione gave a rattled sigh and straightened up. Turning with a watery smile to Harry, Hermione weakly laughed, "I'm sorry Harry. I suppose this is all rather silly."

"Don't be ridiculous Hermione, it's no trouble. You'd do the same for me."

Hermione bit her lip. "It's ok Harry. You really should go back to the party. Everyone will be missing you and I think you'd rather be celebrating than moping in the dark with me and the green eyed monster."

It was true, he was eager to get back to the party, maybe catch a conversation with Ginny…but no. Hermione needed someone right now. And Ron was most assuredly not willing or able to at the moment. "Do you want to go to the kitchens?"

"What?"

Harry grinned at her confusion. It was a vast improvement over her self-pitying. Perhaps he was getting better at dealing with his friend's emotional roll coaster rides.

"Yea, come on." He scooted off the desk. "We can have some ice cream and catch up with Dobby."

"I have been meaning to check on Winky, and Dobby certainly would enjoy the company…but what about your team mates Harry? What about Ginny?"

Harry felt his face flushing. She knew? "Err…what about Gin-

Hermione's impatience seemed to be stretched far too thin as of late. "Oh come off it Harry. I know you fancy her."

"I'm that obvious?" Harry asked incredulously.

"No no, of course not, but I've been around you for years Harry. I can tell when you like someone, and Ginny's felt the same way for, well, forever."

Harry felt exceedingly thrilled at hearing Hermione say that, but he tried to mask it as he shook his head and said, "It's alright Hermione. Ginny's fine right now. You're not."

"Gee, thanks."

"No problem. Now come on, I really have been wanting to see Dobby."

Hermione gracefully slid off the desk. "Thanks Harry. And I'm sorry about the Felix potion mess. I thought it was brilliant how you conned Ron into performing his best."

They headed out of the empty classroom and down to the kitchens. Harry was surprised at her admission. "I thought you were angry with me for tricking the both of you?"

"Well I was, but I was also very impressed with your ploy. It certainly worked."

They were both silent for a second and then blurted out at the same time, "He just needed some confidence."

Laughing at their combined wisdom, they soon found themselves standing in front of the portrait of fruit. "Would you like to do the honors?" Harry asked as Hermione had already withdrawn her wand.

The giggling pear promptly admitted them and they found themselves surrounded by hundreds of eager-to-please house elves. Harry was about to ask them for some Butterbeer when he caught the glare on Hermione's face. He politely said no thanks.

Out of the crowd emerged Dobby, his myriad of hodge-podge hats balanced precariously on his head. "Harry Potter!" The tiny elf squeaked, his large eyes glowing excitedly. "To what does Dobby owe this great honor?"

"Just wanted to see how you were faring Dobby. Is Kreacher behaving?"

Dobby's happy expression slipped from his face as seamlessly as water slides down a waterfall. "Master Harry Potter is too kind to Kreacher. Kreacher does not deserve Harry Potter. He is a very bad elf."

Hermione looked somewhat scandalized. "Dobby! How can you say such a thing? I know Kreacher's cranky and rude, but he's very old. He's probably becoming senile."

"Insanity is just one characteristic Kreacher exhibits Hermione. He's also foul, twisted, and even a little sadistic."

Dobby looked like he was about to agree when a knarled, mangy house elf came up to them and mumbled, "Kreacher didn't know that Master thought so high of him." Kreacher then gave a mock bow to Harry, his nose so low that it seemed impossible for him to remain upright.

Hermione dropped to her knees and in a gentle voice said, "Hello Kreacher. How are you doing?"

Kreacher's bloodshot eyes widened as he stepped back in horror. "The dirty mudblood STILL thinks she can speak to me! The abomination! The scandal! What would my poor mistress say?" He didn't even bother muttering. Harry became livid.

"Kreacher! You awful loathsome elf!" The other house elves, while appalled at Kreacher's behavior toward the witch, were taken aback by Harry's ranting. Harry ignored them all however as his eyes narrowed in rage at the cause of his Godfather's death. He wanted nothing more than to strangle the damn elf.

Just as his hand reached out to throttle the sneering Kreacher, Hermione intercepted it.

"Let go Hermione! He deserves to pay. He's done nothing but call us all names and lead Sirius straight into the veil!" Harry struggled to get his hand free, but Hermione's grip was surprisingly strong.

"There were a lot of factors that led to Sirius falling behind the veil that night." Harry drew away like he'd been slapped, all thoughts of murdering Kreacher behind him now as he felt the sting of accusation, an accusation that had been weighing heavily on him now for months. But Hermione continued, "Kreacher has only known one way to act his entire life. It's not fair to punish him, he doesn't know any better!"

Harry begged to differ, but the pleading in Hermione's voice stopped him from arguing. "I think he does. But let's just drop it." Hermione looked thankful and stood up to stand beside him. Harry glared down at Kreacher and ordered, "You are no longer permitted to say the words: Blood Traitor, Mudblood, half-breed, or any other foul language."

Kreacher looked as though he had just been forced to swallow a handful of Bertie Blott's earwax jellybeans, but he gave another stiff, forced bow and mumbled, "Whatever Master wishes," with as much distain as the grumpy old elf could muster.

Sighing with exasperation, they turned away from the sneering old elf and scoured the kitchens, both intent upon locating little Winky.

"I don't see her anywhere." Hermione finally said, looking a little disappointed. Harry hoped it wasn't because she had any more S.P.E.W. knitted clothes to deliver. Dobby already had more than enough. Harry wasn't even sure where he put all of it.

"Let's just go. Ice cream after talking to Kreacher doesn't seem all that appetizing." Harry said as he headed out. Hermione reluctantly followed.

Once they were almost to the portrait of the fat lady, Hermione stopped. Harry, unsure of why his friend was stopping in the middle of the staircase asked, "What's wrong?"

Hermione turned to him, her expression unreadable, "Nothing Harry. I…err, just wanted to thank you again. It meant a lot." Her gaze turned back to the portrait and she asked in a smaller voice, "You don't suppose that they're still at it, do you?"

Harry cringed. He thought that she might have cooled on it by now. Unable to answer, he just shrugged helplessly.

Hermione sighed. "Oh well. Guess I'll have to go back in there sometime. Madam Pince doesn't like students in the library after hours." She attempted a feeble smile at her own joke, but couldn't quite manage it. "Oh bother." She finally said as they went through the portrait hole of the Fat Lady (Hope you two weren't getting too wild in the celebration dearies!).

To Hermione's great annoyance, Lavender and Ron were still familiarizing each other. Harry was even a little dismayed by Ron's insensitivity. But then again, he knew that Ron was still stinging from Ginny's words.

"Harry! Would you like some pumpkin juice?" Romilda Vane asked as she sidled up to Harry, not even bothering to acknowledge that Hermione was there.

Hermione glared at the girl and to Harry's great shock, put her arm around Harry's waist and leaned her head against his chest. In a sickeningly sweet voice, Hermione said, "Oh, hi Vane. Didn't see you there. Harry and I just got back from the kitchens. We're quite full, I can assure you."

As much as the nearness of Hermione and her behavior were unnerving Harry, the look on Romilda's face was priceless. She sputtered for a few moments before finally giving a howl of frustration and stocking off, no doubt to spread the word to her friends about this new development.

After watching Romilda retreat, Harry pulled himself away from Hermione and gave her a disappointed look.

Hermione raised her hands in defense. "Hey! I'm doing us both a favor Harry. Now Romilda will leave you alone and-

"Ron will get jealous?" Harry came very close to glaring at her. "I'm not going to play games Hermione. Just tell Ron how you feel!" He made to stock off, but something in his line of sight stopped him. It wasn't the look of hurt that had spread across Hermione's face or the disgusting sucking noises coming from his red headed best friend. No. It was Ginny, locking lips gustily with Dean Thomas and looking like an angel, her wind swept red hair streaming down her back, and Arnold the Pigmy Puff struggling valiantly to remain stationed on her shoulder as she moved to deepen the kiss. Crookshanks licked his lips below her as Arnold stumbled.

Hermione stepped up right behind Harry and whispered. "He wouldn't be the only Weasley you could make jealous. Please Harry."

Harry turned around. Hermione truly did look retched. Her hair was even more bushy than usual and her eyes were beginning to look as bloodshot as Kreacher's. He sighed. "Ron's my best friend. He'd hate me."

Hermione gave Harry a strange look before she said, "So let me get this straight, it's ok for Ron to date me, but no one else, is that it?" Hermione was becoming increasingly agitated as she spoke, though her voice remained quiet. "You can't like me."

Harry nearly fell over. This was too much! "I just don't like you the way Ron does Hermione! Look at what he did at the Yule Ball! He's the one that's crazy about you!"

Close to tears once again, she sobbed, "He's got a funny way of showing it!" She sniffed and that determined, maniacal gleam surfaced in her eye, the look that always scared Harry a little. "Help me Harry. Please. I want Ron to want me."

A sinking feeling in his heart, Harry slowly nodded his head. Hermione squealed with delight and gave him a warm hug before running off to her dorm, careful to bypass the corner where Ron had just surfaced from Lavender's lips, a dazed and confused expression marring his freckled face.

Oh yes, Harry thought dryly, Ron would want her. And Harry would be lucky if both Ron and Ginny didn't end up wanting to kill him. Why did friendships have to be so complicated?


	2. A Sluggish Affair

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**A Sluggish Affair**

_A/N: Hi! I just wanted to thank everyone for all the positive encouragement! It prompted me to get this one out so quick, so thanks to everyone who reviewed. I also wanted to mention that some of the dialogue in this chapter may come directly from the book and that J.K. Rowling owns it all. Thanks for bearing with me, now enjoy and be sure to review! HorseLoverTW_

Christmas was fast approaching, and the riptide of glittering decorations once again laced the ancient halls and commons of Hogwarts. Everywhere one cared to look, mistletoe and holly hung itself, Evergreens decked their branches with bright bulbs and tinsel, and red and green ribbons twirled and spiraled around suits of shining armor and hung from high beams in the ceilings.

But Harry barely noticed any of this. He was too wrapped up in the growing animosity between himself, Ron and Hermione. The only advantage so far to Harry and Hermione's pseudo relationship, as far as Harry could tell, was that the large groups of girls who tended to gather beneath the mistletoe, awaiting his eminent arrival with hungry expressions, were easily avoided and disbanded when they saw him walking arm and arm with Hermione.

Of course, as had been the case in their fourth year, Hermione ended up receiving rather hateful looks of jealousy and even some threats, as well as the occasional malicious prank in the post. However, unlike in fourth year, when Ron and Hermione had gotten along all right, for the most part at any rate, the hate and jealousy felt now in days was stifling.

The first time Ron had chanced upon Harry and Hermione, they had been in the Common Room, reading books together. Hermione had been sitting on the floor, her head tilted back so it rested on Harry's leg from where he sat on the sofa reading. Hermione had been pleased with the look of stony anger in Ron's eyes as he had roughly grabbed Lavender's hand and sped her away to the other side of the large fire-lit room. Naturally, Hermione's triumph was short-lived however as Ron began "sucking face" with Lavender.

What had been worse, was that not only had Ginny not seemed to care, but Hermione had confessed to Harry one evening, as they sat in the Library avoiding the penetrating eyes of Madame Pince, that Ginny had actually _congratulated_ Hermione on her new boyfriend. She had said, Hermione reluctantly told Harry, that she, Ginny, had been relieved because she'd been worried one of Harry's groupies such as Romilda would get him first. Relieved!

It was all Harry could do to not pound his head against his four-poster, especially when Ron would come in and blatantly avoid him. To his credit, Ron had tried to confront Harry about it the night he'd seen them reading together, but each time, he'd open his mouth, turn blue, and have to start all over again. Finally, at a loss of patience, Harry had said, "Ron…if you like her, than just tell her and be done with it."

His ears flaming, Ron had finally spit out, "Doesn't seem to matter anymore, does it? I already know how the two of you feel!"

Harry backtracked, his mind racing for a way out of this fiasco. "No Ron. You've got it all wrong. I don't-

"That's me!" Ron screamed, "Always getting it bloody wrong! Guess I'm just too dumb for the likes of her!"

Harry desperately wanted to tell his friend the truth, but what could he say? That he was pretending to date Hermione in order to make Ron's little sister jealous? Yea, that _really_ wouldn't go over so well with Ron.

That had been the last the two had spoken. It reminded Harry greatly of when Ron had been envious of him competing in the Triwizard Tournament. That had ended well.

Not.

Hermione, for her part seemed to be getting on slightly better than Harry. And for this, he was grateful, he just wished it hadn't come at such a high price.

Of course, being with Hermione wasn't completely horrible. He had to admit, it was nicer than being with Cho. At least he wasn't making a fool of himself and getting tears all over his robes. And it wasn't like they were together all the time. Hermione's schedule was frighteningly full, so Harry could only see her properly in the evenings and at mealtimes.

They had agreed that when in public, they would hold hands or do things together such as chess, reading, homework, studying, and talking. So it wasn't that far off from them just being friends, and for this, Harry was eternally thankful. The idea of kissing Hermione, or anything of the nature, seemed somewhat awkward to him. She was Hermione after all.

When they were alone, it was a different story all together. Hermione ranted and raged to Harry the vile things Ron and Lavender had done that day and then she would go into a tirade of all the hate mail she was receiving.

Harry couldn't blame her for being miserable, besides the occasional bubotuber puss, he was in the same boat as her. Well, not really. Whereas Ron was seething with the both of them, Ginny was happily running around with Dean, oblivious to Harry's attempted treachery.

"And incidentally," said Hermione, interrupting Harry's muddled thoughts, "you really ought to be careful."

"Huh?"

Hermione shot him an annoyed look and explained again, "I went into the girls' bathroom just before I came in here and there were about a dozen girls in there, including that Romilda Vane, trying to decide how to slip you a love potion. They're all hoping they're going to get you to dump me for one of them and take them to Slughorn's party."

"Love potions? You can't be serious?"

Hermione humphed. "I guess the gravity of the situation is just now starting to hit you?" She held up her bandaged hands, evidence of yet another puss filled letter. Harry had thought she would of stopped opening them by now, but she had been determined to not let the hate mail keep her from hearing from her parents. She went on, matter of factly, "They all seem to have bought Fred and George's love potions, which I'm afraid to say probably work. I would have confiscated them, but they might have attacked me, and it turns out that they didn't even have the potion on them, they were just discussing tactics."

"Oh, that's _very_ reassuring."

Hermione shrugged at his sarcasm. "Well, just be careful what you drink. Vane meant business." Of that, Harry had no doubt.

Hermione went back to writing her Arithmancy essay, her quill scratching away at an alarmingly fast rate.

Talk of the love potion got Harry to thinking how the stuff was getting by Filch, because of course, a chink in the caretaker's armor would mean that Malfoy could get stuff by as well. When he broached the subject by Hermione, an argument ensued.

"…But something that's just been put in the wrong bottle wouldn't register-and anyway, love potions aren't Dark or dangerous-

"Easy for you to say," muttered Harry darkly, making some notes in the margin of the Half Blood Prince book.

"-So it would be down to Filch to realize it wasn't a cough potion, and he's not a very good wizard, I doubt he can tell one potion from-

Hermione desisted. Harry heard it as well. Footsteps were fast approaching from behind a bookshelf to their right. They waited a second and sure enough, there was Madame Pince, in all her sunken-cheeked, parchment-skinned glory bearing down on them.

"The Library is closed," she stated. "Mind that you lot return anything borrowed to the correct- _what have you done to that book boy_!"

Harry snatched the Prince's book away from the librarian's bony claws and said hastily, "It isn't a library book, it's mine!"

Hermione, who had quickly packed her things, grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him swiftly away as Pince continued to shout, "Desecrated! Befouled!" to their retreating backs.

"Why did you have to bring that stupid book?" Hermione asked once they were safely away from the deranged screams of their librarian.

"It's not my fault she's a daft, barking mad old goat. Or you think maybe she heard you being rude about Filch? I've always suspected there might be something going on between them…"

"Oh, ha ha…"

Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, and that the lamp-lit corridors were blissfully deserted, they made their way back to the common room, arguing about whether or not Filch and Madame Pince were secretly in love with each other.

The brief light-hearted fun with Hermione ended abruptly however as they were accosted by Romilda Vane the moment they stepped through the portrait hole. "Fancy a gillywater?" She asked innocently.

Hermione shot him an I-told-you-so look.

"No thanks," Harry said quickly. "I don't much care for it."

"Well, take these!" However, before Romilda could shove the box into his hands, Harry was already backing away toward the safety of Hermione. Girls could indeed get scary.

Hermione looked on the verge of laughing, but stifled it at seeing Ron and Lavender entwined on an armchair together.

She looked into Harry's eyes, hurt and frustration mirrored in her chocolate ones and slowly, timidly, reached for the hand resting at his side.

Harry sighed. So begins once again their nightly games of who-can-make-who-more-jealous, he thought sadly as he let her drag him over to a sofa where they sat down together. Harry had no doubt that they were in full view of Won-Won, as Lavender likened to call Ron.

Harry wretched his gaze away from the spectacle of his best friend making out and watched Hermione as she carefully arranged herself in his arms. He could feel how tense she was, and knew without being able to see her face that she had her eyes plastered to Ron.

Once she was somewhat comfortable, Hermione pulled out a book. Harry was surprised to see it was his own worn out copy of Quidditch through the Ages.

"What are you doing with that?"

Hermione paused, as if caught red-handed before replying, "Oh, I thought it might be interesting. I'm just borrowing it."

"And since when have you been interested in Quidditch?"

"Alright, alright. I thought that perhaps…" Harry thought he saw Hermione blush. "Perhaps if Ron and I had some more common ground, something he enjoyed, to…discuss…that maybe…"

Harry felt a twinge of sorrow go out to his friend and he drew her in tighter in his embrace. "Hermione," he began, but just then, Ginny walked up to them.

"Hi guys! You all set for Slughorn's party Hermione?" Harry noticed with a hint of satisfaction the way Ginny's gaze lingered on Harry's arms wrapped around Hermione.

"Oh yes. Thanks for those sleek-eazy potions by the way. I ended up using a hole vile for the Yule ball, and my hair wasn't nearly as long back then."

Ginny swallowed and forced a smile. "Sure thing. I guess I'll be seeing you two at breakfast tomorrow. Night!" Ginny quickly retreated toward the girl's dorm stairs.

Harry was just about to whisper to Hermione that he was starting to feel better about their predicament, when Dean intercepted Ginny at the base of the steps and gave her a sound good night kiss. Something clenched violently in Harry's stomach.

Hermione swiveled around in his arms so that they were face to face. The emphatic expression on her face told Harry that she too had seen Ginny and Dean.

"I'm sorry Harry. I felt sure there for a moment that she was coming around. I think she's starting to get antsy though. Just hang in there." Over Hermione's shoulder, Harry could see Ron glaring at the two of them.

Harry wasn't sure why he did it. Later, he had told himself that it had been the pent up anger at seeing Ginny kissing Dean, or maybe the frustration he had felt toward his wayward friend, or perhaps it had even been an attempt to protect Hermione from Ron's seething glare, but whatever the case, Harry kissed Hermione.

Hermione had been surprised when their lips met, and the first awkward second of it seemed to drag on forever as they adjusted and readjusted the angles of their heads and how and where their lips connected. But then, just when Harry was about to pull away, mollified by what he had unwittingly done, something miraculous happened.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss! Suddenly, it wasn't so awkward, it was pleasant. And hot.

They pulled away from each other breathless.

"Hermione, I…err…that was unexpected." Harry finished lamely.

Hermione's eyes searched his for a second before they darted over to Ron, who was currently standing up, a bizarre expression of intense disbelief and hatred upon his face. Lavender glared in their direction as well, but only out of fear that Ron was ignoring her.

"Well," Hermione pursed her lips. "That got his attention."

"I'm not sure I was aiming for such a concentrated form of it Hermione," Harry pointed out.

Hermione's eyes alighted. "But don't you see! It's finally working."

"Goody."

"Oh, what's wrong now Harry? Ginny is coming along fine. She'll probably dump Dean once we "break up"."

"You're not the one who has to share a dorm with an irate friend. Ron's likely to strangle me in my sleep tonight!"

"You'll be alright. If you have to, you can always use your invisibility cloak."

"Thanks for all the concern."

"Harry! I didn't mean it like that."

"Yea you did. But it's ok. There's always the Room of Requirement."

Just then a shadow loomed over them. "What's this about the Room of Requirement?" Ron's eyes were bugging out of his head and his ears were practically radiating they were so red.

Realizing what Ron was assuming Hermione quickly tried to clarify, "Oh, no Ron! NO! It's nothing like that-

"Then what is it like then, Hmmm? Harry offering to give you some _private _defense lessons? Is that it?"

It was Harry's turn to get mad. "Now just wait a second! I wouldn't-

"Ron, come on! Let's leave them alone. Please!" Lavender begged, tugging on Ron's robe sleeve. "I wanted to show you something. It's that card I made for you."

Ron rolled his eyes and reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged back to the armchair by Lavender who looked extremely relieved to have won back his attention.

"That went well." Hermione muttered as she slid off of Harry's lap. She looked at him for a second before saying, "It was a good try…" Hermione suddenly seemed almost…shy. Harry couldn't blame her though. He was still trying to fathom what had just happened. It was too odd. She went on though, a cheeky smile brightening her face, "We'll have to do it again sometime." At Harry's wide-eyed look of shock, Hermione burst of laughing, "Oh, don't look so frightened Harry! I was just having some fun."

She turned around and headed for the girl's dorm stairs, calling back over her shoulder when she was nearest to Ron and Lavender, "Don't forget about Slughorn's party Harry!"

Harry watched her go with something akin to bewilderment. Was that really Hermione? Since when did she poke fun, or know how to snog for that matter? He felt his face redden at the memory of their kiss. Whatever Krum had taught her, he'd done it well, Harry thought as he headed up to the boy's dorm, intent on fishing his invisibility cloak out of his trunk and sleeping underneath his bed that night.


	3. Devious Draco

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Devious Draco**

_A/N: I wanted to again thank all my reviewers. You, and the end of the Deathly Hallows, the sickening horror of it, are the reason I'm writing this. I also wanted to mention that some of the dialogue in this chapter may come directly from the book and that J.K. Rowling owns it all. Thanks for bearing with me, now enjoy and please be sure to review._

The bang of Harry's head hitting his mattress when he sat up was enough to awaken the entire dorm. Luckily, when they had looked under his bed to see what had caused the disturbance, the only thing they had glimpsed had been an old pair of shoes Harry had left there.

Ron had seemed a bit suspicious, but if he had known Harry was under the invisibility cloak, he hadn't said anything.

Breakfast had been the usual sordid affair, with the accusing looks and the jealous glares directed at both Harry and Hermione.

Transfiguration had been even worse. While working on his human transfiguration assignment, Ron had managed to give himself an enormous handlebar mustache. Hermione had laughed rather unkindly and Ron had retaliated by mimicking her enthusiastic hand raising whenever a teacher would ask a question. Harry thought the impersonation was rather good, Hermione really did sometimes jump up and down when she was eager to answer, but Hermione looked like she was about to burst into tears. Stifling a sob, she high-tailed it out of the classroom.

Everyone turned to Harry, even Professor McGonagall! They all seemed to be saying the same thing, 'She's your girlfriend. Go comfort her.'

Harry rolled his eyes but got out of his chair, picked up her things and went after her none-the-less.

He finally caught up to her outside the girl's lavatory. She was talking with Luna Lovegood and seemed to have settled down a little. She saw him approach carrying her things and quickly wiped away the last bit of tear on her cheeks.

"Oh. Thanks Harry. It was nice of you to bring my bag." She took it from him and made some excuse of needing to go study the lesson she had just ran out of, even though they both knew that she was the only one in the class to have already accomplished it.

Harry watched her go, feeling slightly guilty that he hadn't thought of anything comforting to say when Luna spoke. "Hello Harry. Did you know that one of your eyebrows is yellow?"

"Hi Luna. Uh, we were working on human transfiguration in class. Guess I forgot to change it back."

"You must have been very worried about Hermione."

Harry thought it best not to mention the glares that had motivated him to follow her. "Err…yea. She's having a hard time of it with Ron."

"Yes, she did seem a bit upset. I thought at first it had been Moaning Myrtle making all the sobs, but it turned out to be Hermione. She said something about him being rude."

"He was poking fun at her in class."

"He says very funny things sometimes, doesn't he?" said Luna, as they set off down the corridor together. "But he can be a bit unkind. I noticed that last year."

Harry thought of all the times Luna had tried to talk to Ron the previous term and something dawned on him. "Luna, you don't, err…fancy Ron, do you?"

Luna's enormous blue eyes grew even wider as they looked at him and she stopped curling her long dirty blonde hair unconsciously around her quill. Even her radish earrings seemed to deflate a little. Finally, in a voice slightly less dreamy than normal, Luna said, "He's very handsome, and he's amusing." Luna looked down at the ground and then looked back up to Harry, her expression more her usual dreamy state, as was her voice as she continued, "But he doesn't seem to like me at all. And I think I'd be better off with someone who likes Nargles the way I do. Ginny told me that Neville sometimes reads the Quibbler…"

As Luna drifted off, lost in thoughts of either Neville or Nargles, or possibly both, Harry felt the need to defend his friend. "Listen Luna, I know Ron can sometimes be a bit of a prat, but he told me that he was really impressed with you at the Ministry. I think…" this part was slightly more difficult to say. "I think, that if you really like Ron, you should keep with it." Harry thought of Ginny. "We shouldn't have to give up on our dreams."

To Harry's great surprise, Luna gave him a hug. Pulling quickly away, she beamed up at him and said, "Never on our dreams." Walking away from him, she called back over her shoulder, "See you later, have a wonderful time at Slughorn's party. Watch out for Vampires!"

Harry watched her go, smiling to himself. Luna always had that affect on him.

The rest of the day passed by in a flurry of resentful looks and scathing remarks between Ron and Hermione. By the time eight o'clock rolled around, and Harry found himself waiting for Hermione in the Gryffindor Common Room, he was exhausted. He couldn't stop thinking about what tomorrow would bring, what with him supposed to be going to the borrow and him and Ron locked in this terrible conflict. He would have simply stayed here at Hogwarts, but everyone was all set to spend the holidays with him over at the Borrow, and he couldn't just cancel his visit saying that he'd had a change of heart and suddenly wanted to have a happy Christmas by himself all of the sudden, especially on such short notice.

"You look nice Harry," a voice from above said. He looked up, and there stood Hermione, silhouetted in the doorway to the Girl's dormitory. Only, it wasn't Hermione. Not with that sleek, shiny hair done up in an intricate bun, delicate tendrils undone to frame her face.

She began walking slowly down the stairs toward him, her ocean blue dress robes floating just above the steps. And then suddenly, he found himself looking at her eye to eye.

He felt his face flush and quickly looked away. "You look, err…nice as well Hermione."

Hermione laughed and grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the portrait hole and away from the venomous looks of Romilda and Ron.

"Harry," she finally began once they were safely away from the Gryffindor Commons and on their way to Slughorn's office, "I heard from Ginny that you were seen hugging Luna."

Harry turned sharply toward her. He was relieved when he saw only mirth in her expression. "Yea. We talked a bit after you ran off. I'd forgotten how much fun talking to Luna could be."

Hermione smirked. "Not thinking of giving up on Ginny, are you?" she asked jokingly.

Harry gave her a smile. "Not if I can help it."

They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence, Harry not wanting to let slip to Hermione what Luna had revealed to him, and Hermione seemingly lost in thought.

Slughorn's magically enhanced office emitted sounds of laughter, music, and loud conversation as the two drew up to it. The ornate and elaborate set up of the room made them stop for a second just to take it all in. When Hermione's eyes drifted over the house-elves, negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like little roving tables, her lips thinned into a frown and her eyes narrowed.

Harry was almost grateful when Slughorn waddled up to them and boomed, "Harry, m'boy!" almost as soon as he and Hermione had squeezed in through the door. "Come in, come in, so many people I'd like you to meet!"

Slughorn was wearing a tasseled velvet hat to match his smoking jacket. Gripping Harry's arm so tightly he might have been hoping to Disapparate with him, Slughorn led him purposefully into the party; Harry seized Hermione's hand and dragged her along with him.

They met an author named Worple who had brought along his companion, a dour man he'd identified as a Vampire. A group of girls near the punch table were ogling the creature with barely suppressed looks of intense curiosity. Feeling uncomfortable with Hermione edging away from him and towards the Vampire as well and Worple trying to convince him to let him write Harry's biography for boo-coos of gold, Harry gave the man a curt good bye and dragged a reluctant Hermione away to the opposite end of the room.

Selecting a few choice cookies from the snack table, Harry looked up and gave a groan. Naturally, he'd end up right where Professor Trelawney was standing, by herself, holding a bottle of sherry.

Hermione didn't seem too pleased either, her dislike of the woman, especially after that incident involving a crystal ball in their third year, becoming infamous.

But the woman _was_ all by herself. Cursing his chivalry, Harry asked politely, "Hello Professor. How are you?"

"Good Evening dear boy. I'm just…just smashing," hiccupped Professor Trelawney, focusing on Harry with some difficulty.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and whispered, "She _is_ smashed."

Harry was surprised by Hermione's behavior, even if she didn't approve of the way Trelawney taught, he'd always expected her to give due respect to all teachers, even when Harry couldn't, in such cases as their sallow Potion's professor. He gave her a reproachful look and tried again with the bizarre Divination professor.

"Are you getting along any better with Firenze?"

That had been the wrong thing to say. Trelawney's wasted expression turned sour as she slurred angrily, "I am most certainly NOT enjoying the Centaur's company! All a bunch of Astronomy and garbage if you ask me. Those poor students taking him. They're neglecting their education!" She howled the last part.

"You better not let Professor Sinistra hear you talking about Astronomy that way." Hermione said icily.

Trelawney focused in on Hermione and gave a contemptuous laugh. Harry feared that a catfight would soon break out but once again, Slughorn appeared.

Oblivious to the glares Hermione and Trelawney were shooting each other, Slughorn jovially said, laying a fat hand on Harry's shoulder, "Harry! I'd wondered where you'd gotten off to. Some more friends I want you to meet." Trelawney gave a rather obnoxious hiccup. "See you're catching up with Professor Trelawney." Slughorn gave a nod to the woman and then seemed to notice Hermione there for the first time. His fat face brightened even more if it were possible.

"Miss Granger! How delightful! Have you been here the entire time?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yes Professor Slughorn. You introduced Harry and I to Mr. Worple?"

"I did?" Not looking the least bit apologetic, Slughorn went on, addressing Trelawney and beaming at Harry and Hermione, "Sibyll, did you realize who you're talking to…" Slughorn laid his other hand on Hermione's shoulder and said with gusto, "My brightest students!"

Trelawney gave a harrumph, but said nothing as Slughorn went on, looking fondly at Harry, "But I don't think I've ever known such a natural at Potions! Instinctive, you know-like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sibyll-why even Severus-"

And to Harry's horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them.

"Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus!" Hiccupped Slughorn happily. "I was just talking about Harry's exceptional potion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!"

Trapped, with Slughorn's arm around his shoulders, Snape looked down his hooked nose at Harry, his black eyes narrowed.

"Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all."

"Well, then, it's natural ability!" shouted Slughorn. "Must have gotten it straight from his mother, Lily!" At the mention of Harry's mother, Snape's eyes narrowed even further. Hermione's thoughtful look towards Snape went unnoticed as Slughorn obliviously droned on, "You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death-never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don't think even you, Severus-"

"Really?" said Snape quietly, his eyes still boring into Harry, who felt a certain disquiet. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to start investigating the source of his newfound brilliance at Potions.

"Professor Snape," Hermione suddenly interrupted, her voice sounding meek, "Did you happen to know Lily Potter, or err…Evans?" At the shocked look on Harry and Snape's faces, she quickly continued, "I mean, you were in different houses, but I know you two were both in the same year and all, you must have known each other, what with your mutual accomplishments in Potions and…uh, other classes I'm sure."

Harry was strongly considering stomping on Hermione's strappy-shoe encased foot. She knew perfectly well that Snape loathed his mother! Almost as much as he hated Harry's father. He had told both her and Ron about the memory he'd seen in Snape's mind, when Snape had called Lily a mudblood.

For once, Snape and Harry seemed to be thinking along the same lines. If the gaping look on his face was any indicator, Snape wished for nothing more than a Basilisk to come up and stare at Hermione. Finally finding his voice, Snape seethed, "I don't believe that is any business of yours Granger!"

Instead of looking crestfallen or reproachful, Hermione almost smiled and gave a polite nod, saying, "Yes Professor. Sorry to ask."

Before any of them could say anything, a scratchy old voice wheezed, "Professor Slughorn…"

It was Filch, and behind him, being cuffed by the ear was an enraged Draco Malfoy.

Filch continued, his jowls aquiver and the maniacal light of mischief-detection in his bulging eyes, "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Malfoy pulled himself free of Filch's grip, looking furious. "All right, I wasn't invited!" He said angrily. "I was trying to gatecrash, happy?"

"It's alright Argus," Slughorn said, waving a hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."

Filch's expression of disappointment was perfectly predictable, it was a well-known fact that Filch wanted nothing more than to hang delinquent students by their toes in the dungeon, but why, Harry wondered, watching him, did Malfoy look almost equally unhappy? And why was Snape looking at Malfoy as though both angry and…was it possible?...a little afraid?

"I'd like a word with you, Draco," said Snape suddenly.

Draco, looking a little grayer than usual, followed Snape resentfully.

Harry stood there for a moment irresolute, then said, "I'll be back in a bit, Professor Slughorn-er-bathroon." Hermione looked suspiciously at him and then bade her excuse to the Potions master as well before following Harry.

Slughorn stood there alongside Trelawney shaking his head in amusement, mumbling something along the lines of "mistletoe and teenagers" as he watched them go.

"Alright Harry, explain to me again why you think Draco and Snape are up to something?" Hermione whispered in exasperation as the two of them shuffled down the corridor under the invisibility cloak at a brisk pace. Harry ignored her and continued pressing his ear to each door until, with a great jolt of excitement, he grabbed Hermione by the waste and dragged her down to the keyhole with him at the last classroom in the corridor and heard voices.

"…cannot afford mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled-"

"I didn't have anything t do with it, all right?"

"I hope you are telling the truth, because it was both clumsy and foolish. Already you are suspected of having a hand in it."

"Who suspects me?" said Malfoy angrily. "For the last time, I didn't do it, okay? That Bell girl must've had an enemy no one knows about-don't look at me like that? I know what you're doing, I'm not stupid, but it won't work-I can stop you?"

There was a pause and then Snape said quietly, "Ah…Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?"

"I'm not trying to conceal anything from _him_, I just don't want you butting in!"

Hermione, who up until then had been squirming uncomfortably in Harry's grip, now sat crouched there at attention. Harry could tell what she was thinking-what had happened to make Malfoy speak to Snape like this-Snape, toward whom he had always shown respect, even liking?

"So that is why you have been avoiding me this term? You have feared my interference? You realize that, had anybody else failed to come to my office when I had told them repeatedly to be there, Draco-"

"So put me in detention! Report me to Dumbledore!" jeered Malfoy.

There was another pause. Then Snape said, "You know perfectly well that I do not wish to do either of those things."

"You'd better stop telling me to come to your office then!"

"Listen to me," said Snape, his voice so low now that Harry and Hermione had to push their ears very hard against the keyhole to hear, Harry swatting strands of Hermione's bushy hair away from his face. "I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco…"

"Looks like you'll have to break it then, because I don't need your protection! It's my job, he gave it to me and I'm doing it, I've got a plan and it's going to work, it's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would!"

"What is your plan?"

"Like I'm going to tell you!"

"If you tell me what you are trying to do, I can assist you…"

"I've got all the assistance I need, thanks. If you wanna help so bad, keep Crabbe and Goyle out of detention instead of putting them there!

"Your friends will need to work harder if they hope to pass…"

"What does it matter?" said Malfoy. "Defense Against the Dark Arts…it's all a joke, isn't it, an act? Like any of this will help us?

"It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle…"

"They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people! 

"Then why not confide in me, and I can…"

"I don't know what side you're on!" Malfoy nearly screamed.

"The Dark Lord trusts me." Snape said softly.

"Well, I don't." And without much of a warning, Malfoy stocked toward the door.

Harry threw himself and Hermione out of the way as the door violently swung open. Malfoy was so upset and in a haste to get away from Snape that he didn't notice the shoes of the two peeking out below the cloak for a fraction of a second.

His hand covering Hermione's mouth and hers clasped tightly over his, they waited, not daring to breathe, as Malfoy strode down the corridor, past the open door of Slughorn's office, around the distant corner, and out of sight.

Snape emerged slowly from the classroom a few moments later. His expression unfathomable, he returned to the party.

Cautiously, Harry and Hermione extricated themselves from each other. Harry pulled off the cloak and they looked at each other, minds racing for some explanation to the conversation they had just overheard.

"You believe Malfoy's up to something now, don't you?"

"Well yes, it's a bit hard to deny that," Hermione whispered. Harry could tell that her mind was moving faster than normal. He resisted the urge to rub his hands together.

"What do you suppose Malfoy is planning? We know for sure he's the one who did that to Katie."

"I'm not sure. It's obviously something big. And isn't it strange that Voldemort would leave Professor Snape out of the loop, and have Malfoy in on it? Especially when Professor Snape is stationed here. It doesn't make any sense."

"No, Voldemort didn't leave Snape out, it's Malfoy who's leaving Snape out. He thinks Malfoy is with Dumbledore."

"Well, he is."

"So they say, I'm beginning to think that he's just out for himself."

Hermione bent down to pick up the shimmering invisibility cloak and glanced over at the light and laughter emanating from Slughorn's office. "Are you going back in there?" she asked as her fingers flitted over the magical fabric.

"No, I really need to get my things together." Harry said sadly. He remembered that he would be going to the Borrow tomorrow, and a pinprick of ice seemed to hit his stomach. Not even the prospect of Ginny being there could make him feel any better about having to be near Ron for any duration.

Hermione continued running her hand over the fabric, seemingly lost in thought before she looked up and uttered a cry.

"What is it!" Harry jumped and spun around, fearing they were about to be attacked.

"Nothing!" Said Hermione, now amused at Harry's reaction. He glared at her. "Sorry to worry you, but I just had a thought."

"And how is this new?" Harry asked dryly.

Hermione ignored him. "Why don't you come with me this Christmas?" She blushed and went on hurriedly, "I mean, you've never been to my house and you've only briefly ever met my parents, this could be your only opportunity, and you're not getting on very well with Ron, and I'm really sorry about that. I know it's partly my fault, but well…what do you think?" She seemed rather nervous.

The idea did appeal to Harry, he wouldn't have to suffer through Ron's temper the entire holidays, but then again, he didn't want to impose, and Dumbledore would probably not allow it, what with all the security issues. He told Hermione as much.

She thought about it a second. "Well, it's no trouble Harry. My mother would love to have you over, and we do have a spare bedroom, but you're right about the security…" She bit her lip. "Why don't we go talk it over with Dumbledore and see if he could do anything?"

They came across Dumbledore in his office and told him about their idea. Harry also wanted to mention what they had overheard Snape and Malfoy discussing, but Hermione elbowed him. She was under the assumption that Dumbledore already knew what was going on. Harry went along with her, promising himself he'd talk with Dumbledore about it later.

"This would be most difficult." Dumbledore said shaking his head at their proposal. "However, if you two are sure, and if you could write something to the Weasley's apologizing for abandoning them, than I might be able to do something."

"Thank you sir. I'll send Hedwig tonight with a letter."

Dumbledore stared at the two of them, his penetrating blue eyes twinkling above his half moon spectacles. Finally, when both of them had felt as though their souls had been strip searched and cataloged, he said, "Permit me to ask, why the sudden change of plans Harry?"

Harry looked down at his feet ashamed. Their petty problems with Ron seemed far too contrite to discuss in front of Dumbledore. Thankfully, Hermione spoke up for the both of them, "It was me Professor. I wanted Harry to have a chance to really meet my parents and see my house. I'm sorry for all the inconvenience this will cause."

Dumbledore regarded her for a moment and then gave a gentle nod, his fingers steepling together. "How thoughtless of us all Miss Granger, that we never once thought you might want Harry to visit you instead of the Borrow. But please bare in mind the threat this places upon your family. In accordance, I'll also need to put up some wards and place your fireplace on the Floo network of course."

Hermione gave a small smile. "Of course."

"Alright then, as I'm attending a Ministry function tomorrow, I'll use the opportunity to connect your hearth Miss Granger. I'll travel with you both to your house tomorrow evening and set up the proper wards. Does this sound sufficient?" Dumbledore asked as he walked around his desk to escort them out.

"More than sufficient!" Harry said as he and Hermione got up from their seats. "It's brilliant Professor, thanks." Harry gave Dumbledore a hug, something he didn't recollect ever doing, but felt right all the same. Like he was thanking his grandfather for some frivolous, wonderful present.

Pulling away, Dumbledore smiled down at Harry and said, "You're quite welcome Harry. I hope your Christmas proves to be an exceedingly happy one."

Walking back toward their commons, Harry and Hermione discussing Draco's odd behavior, Harry thought that it certainly would be.


	4. Pink Attack

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Pink Attack**

_A/N: Thank you so much my wonderful reviewers!! All your feedback has prompted me to turn this one out a lot sooner than I would have normally, so thank you so much! I apologize in advance for any spelling errors. Hope you enjoy this one and please be sure to continue reviewing. Note that this is only the first part of the holiday chapter. J.K. Rowling owns all._

"So let me get this straight, if someone, say…oh, I don't know…a hook nosed git for instance, broke an unbreakable vow, they'd die?" Harry asked the next day as he and Hermione sat waiting in Dumbledore's office for the Headmaster to come collect them. Fawkes sat on his perch regarding the two with a certain measure of curiosity a little ways away. If Harry had to guess, he'd say by the darkening orange color of the Phoenix's plumage that the bird was nearing his burning day.

Hermione, still staring at the bird as she had been, replied, "That's correct Harry, but we've already been over this. And I really wish you would stop calling Snape names. Did you ever think that might be the reason he hates you so?"

"No." Harry said, leaning forward in his seat to swipe a lemon drop, "He hates me because he hated my dad."

"That may be, but didn't you notice the way he sort of recoiled when Slughorn and I mentioned your mom?"

"Oh, not that again Hermione! For the last time, Snape detested both my parents; my dad because he made fun of him and my mom because of sheer principle." Hermione had been nagging him all the way to the stone gargoyle about Snape's reaction last night during their conversation at the party. He still hadn't forgiven her for bringing it up either.

"Her heritage?"

"He called her a mudblood in the memory, remember?"

Hermione finally took her eyes off of Fawkes and rested them on Harry. After a few moments of collecting her thoughts, which was rather odd seeing as Hermione usually had all her thoughts alphabetized by the time she was ready to use any of them, she said cryptically, "Memories can be misleading Harry."

He rolled his eyes. "All right! You're so smart, let's hear it then." Harry mocked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his comfy chair. "What's your theory?"

"I think it's a bit more complicated than anyone is letting on. Have you ever taken the time to wonder why Professor Dumbledore _always_ trusts Snape?" Hermione said conspiratorially, inching slightly toward Harry, her eyes glowing with the prospect of a mystery to be thoroughly researched.

Harry was just about to say that yes, he had thought about it, a great deal in fact, and he'd come to the astute conclusion that the whole relationship between Headmaster and teacher was a smarmy, bloody stupid mistake if ever he saw one, when out of the fireplace erupted Professor Dumbledore himself. Naturally, he landed quite gracefully, although he did have to duck a little as he emerged from the grate, seeing as he was almost a foot taller than the top of the stone.

"_Professor_ Snape, Miss Granger." Dumbledore reminded kindly as he glided up to them, reaching out with his good hand for a lemon drop on his desk.

Hermione turned pink. "Yes sir. You could…err….hear me in there?" She asked gesturing toward the hearth.

Dumbledore smiled a little at her, but finished crunching away the hard candy before responding. "I often find it to be beneficial to my landings, if I focus in on my destination." He glanced at Harry, his smile broadening slightly. "I so hated to land on my face as a boy."

It was now Harry's turn to be embarrassed, but Dumbledore continued, "I have finished the protective charms I felt prudent to your situation, and as promised, connected the Granger's fireplace to the Floo network as I was in the Ministry this morning. If you're both already packed, I would suggest you go now. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were slightly alarmed at my presence and I don't think my explanation settled their nerves very much."

Harry and Hermione stood and gathered their trunks. Harry also had to carry Hedwig's cage and Hermione coped with Crookshank's carrier. They shuffled over to the Headmaster's grate and said their farewells.

Hermione went in first and pronounced very clearly, "The Granger's residence," clutching her trunk and carrier a little tighter than might have been necessary, Crookshanks hissing the entire time.

As Harry turned to the fireplace, Dumbledore called out, his voice quiet and thoughtful, "Upon your return, I look forward to sifting through more of Riddle's Riddles with you. Have a wonderful Christmas Harry."

"You too sir. Happy Christmas." Harry opened his mouth to say 'Granger residence' when Dumbledore added, "By the way Harry- almost forgot to mention it in all the precautions and preparations- but at our last Order meeting, Remus expressed a wish to visit with you during the Holidays. Do you think this could be arranged?"

"Err…I'd have to see if Hermione's parents would be ok with that. How do I let him know?"

"Simply have a fireside chat with me and I'll inform him."

"Thank you sir, for all of this." Dumbledore acknowledged him with a nod and Harry clutched Hedwig's cage a little harder and said, "Granger residence!" as clearly as he could, throwing a little floo powder into the fireplace as he did so.

The familiar green flames erupted all around him and then the spinning sensation kicked in, gripping his stomach in its horrid waves of dizziness. Recalling what Dumbledore had said, Harry tried thinking of Hermione's house.

By the time he remembered that he couldn't recall what he'd never seen, he was already busy collecting himself off the white-carpeted floor of a modest looking sitting room. A conservatively upholstered couch of off-white with small lilac flowers patterned across it and several similarly decorated chairs littered the room. A television sat cozily upon a small wooden stand in front of the couch and a newspaper tote lay neatly by one of the recliners.

Situated in the middle of the sitting room, standing rather awe-struck, were the man and woman Harry vaguely remembered seeing briefly at Flourish and Blotts the summer before his second year.

Hermione rushed up to him. He held out his hand to be helped up, but she reached for Hedwig's cage instead, cooing softly to the squawking owl, "Poor Hedwig, I'm so sorry. Harry's never been very good at flooing."

"_Er-herm_," Harry cleared his throat, annoyed with Hermione and trying to hint that he could use a little help here. She missed his subtle hint and went straight to introductions.

"Oh right! Harry! This is my mother and father. Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter. I'm not sure if you all remember each other or not from Diagon Alley?"

Harry gingerly got to his feet and adjusted his glasses as Mr. and Mrs. Granger came over to him, looking about as nervous as Harry felt, what with suddenly imposing on them and all.

Mr. Granger, a middle-aged man with closely cropped brown hair and a narrow face was the first to shake his hand. He offered a small welcoming grin before saying, "Call me Dan, please. Nice to really be meeting you Harry. I don't have to say how much Hermione has told us about you."

Harry nodded. "It's great to meet you Mr. Gran- err…sorry. I mean Dan."

Mrs. Granger gave Harry a warm smile and said, in a voice reminiscent of the way Hermione sometimes spoke, "A pleasure Harry. I'm Emma, if you please. What with all the stories Hermione has told us of you, I fear you've become quite the legend in this house. Forgive us for being a little star-struck." She shook his hand as well and then turned away and began walking over to what looked like the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, her slightly-tamed light brown hair blocking the view of her face, "Dinner is all set. We were just waiting for you two to arrive."

Mr. Granger led the way to the dining room, where an elegant oak table sat burdened with a large plate of roasted chicken. Sitting down and gesturing for Harry to do likewise, he said conversationally, "That man…uh, Dumbledur?...was quite interesting. Didn't stay long though…"

"Dumbledore dad." Hermione said as she came in, apparently having just attended to Hedwig and Crookshanks. Turning to Harry she said, "I put Hedwig and your trunk in the spare room and gave her a bit of water."

"Oh. Thanks Hermione. You didn't have to do that." He wasn't sure how proper the Grangers were, so he waited before taking up a plate and helping himself.

"It was no problem Harry." Hermione said with a grin, flourishing her wand and levitating the peas onto the plate she had just seized. "I'm of age, remember?"

Deciding it was ok if Hermione could do it, Harry grabbed his own plate and helped himself to some peas, carrots and a generous amount of the roasted chicken.

Bursting into the dining room with a large casserole in her hands, Mrs. Granger announced, "I have desert here when you lot are ready!"

Mr. Granger smiled at his wife and asked, "What smells so good honey?"

"Fruit salad dear." She answered, carefully setting it down and reaching for a dinner plate.

Harry shot Hermione a look and she whispered under her breath, "Dentists."

"Right."

All through the rest of the meal, although he was admittedly feeling very self-conscious, Harry managed not to make too big a fool of himself and gleamed information about the Grangers.

They were your typical family it seemed, the only variation being Hermione's witch-hood, which halfway into the meal became the topic of discussion.

"It came as ever such a surprise," Mrs. Granger- Emma was saying. "When Hermione got her letter, I remember her shouting, Oh no! I'm so far behind, I don't even have my books yet!"

Hermione ducked her head and mumbled weakly, "That wasn't what I said first. I think I may have mentioned something about how being a witch made sense or something."

Emma went on, apparently not hearing her daughter, that or she was enjoying the look of mortification gracing Hermione's face. "And then of course were the letters she sent home. When we got the one about the troll, I thought I might have fainted!"

Dan laughed. "Yes, but that was also the first one that mentioned her new friends- Harry and Ron." He chuckled, looking fondly at Hermione, "She was so excited."

"I'm sitting _right_ here." Hermione said, but he continued, speaking to Harry.

"Hermione hadn't had many friends before that."

"DAD!" Hermione screamed, mortified.

"Sorry honey. I suppose that wasn't a very 'cool' thing to say." Hermione shook her head and buried her face behind her hands. "But you have to be somewhat lenient with your mother and I- we haven't had much experience in talking with friends you bring home, now do we?"

Hermione looked as though she might implode, luckily however, Mrs. Granger seemed to finally take notice of her daughter's discomfort and said to her husband, "I think we ought to let the kids head off to bed now, it's getting fairly late." To Harry, she added, "I already put fresh blankets on the bed in the spare, but if you need anything, just tell me."

"Thanks Emma."

"And I know Hermione will probably refuse to ever look at me again for saying it, but no late night rendezvous, okay?" Dan said sternly, but his lips were quirking upward as Hermione began to convulse.

Harry shared a little of her embarrassment this time as he solemnly answered, "Yes sir."

Harry made to follow Hermione and Mrs. Granger out the door but then recalled Lupin's request. "Err…Dan?"

"Yes?" Mr. Granger said as he began to clear the table.

Harry helped him and asked, "I know I'm already imposing on you and Mrs. Granger for the holidays, but," he went on hurriedly, "A friend of mine, one of Hermione's old teachers in fact, wanted to see me over the break. I don't suppose you'd permit him to visit would you? It would probably just be for a few hours one day…"

"Which teacher?" Dan asked as he started with the rinsing. Harry took up a rag and began drying as Dan passed the wet dishes.

"Professor Lupin, Defense teacher from about three years back?"

"Oh yes! Hermione's spoken quite fondly of him. Said he had to leave due to illness. Is he doing any better?"

Harry sputtered a little at Hermione's lie, but quickly recovered- reasoning that Hermione's parents probably wouldn't have been too happy about a Werewolf teaching their daughter- "He….uh, has a lasting condition, it…err, comes and goes."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Dan handed Harry another plate. "Of course we'll be happy to meet him. How about Christmas Eve? We wouldn't want to keep him from his own family on the big day."

Harry thought about Lupin's lonely life style. Were his parents still alive? If they were, Remus never mentioned it. "Uh…Dan, how would it be if he came over on Christmas Day?" At Mr. Granger's perplexed look, Harry quickly went on, a little nervous, "I don't think he has any family, and it'd just be ni-

"Say no more Harry. He's more than welcome. And don't worry about it. This family's usual tradition consists of early morning Christmas present opening and a large dinner complete with eggnog. Nothing fancy, and nothing that can't be shared with a man that has obviously been such a big part of Hermione's education. Of all her teachers, she speaks of him and Professor McGonagall with the highest regard."

Harry sighed in relief. "Thank you so much Mr. Granger. I really appreciate this."

After informing Dumbledore about Lupin's visit, Harry journeyed up the stairs towards the sound of Hermione and her mother talking. He stopped about midway up the steps when he noticed the picture frames along the staircase. The first depicted a baby Hermione seated atop a large tomb- looking ecstatic. The next was a toddler Hermione, her tiny hands gripping the same gigantic book, a bright smile lighting her face. Next came a Hermione that looked to be about five. She was standing alone in front of a large school, in uniform, waving to the camera, a nervous smile the only discernable feature behind her extremely bushy hair. The next picture looked more familiar to Harry. A first year Hermione was rushing towards the camera from Platform 9 and ¾, looking very excited to be seeing her parents after such a long time away. Finally, Harry came upon the last picture. Judging by the way Hermione looked, it had to have been taken last year. Hermione was perched on top of a snow-covered summit in skis, looking rather anxious. What caught Harry's attention more than anything else was the get-up Hermione was wearing. From earmuffs to snow boots, the no-frills Hermione was all pink.

Harry leaned away from the picture with a grin. This would be fun to tease her about, though, thinking back to their dinner, that really wasn't in short supply right now.

He started back up the stairs, Hermione and Emma's voices becoming clearer the closer he got.

"No really dear, I'm thrilled to finally have one of your friends over, I'd just assumed it would be Ron though…"

Harry paused, unsure if he should be hearing this. But looking around and not knowing what else he could do, not knowing which room was the spare, he listened on.

"Why would you say that mum?" Hermione asked, her voice a little higher than normal.

"Well…I thought he was the one you fancied? I know Harry means a great deal to you, but the way you go on about Ron…I just thought…"

Harry, feeling very awkward about the turn their discussion was taking was just about to stage an interruption to ask where his room was when Hermione said quietly, "I'm not sure how I feel about Ronald anymore."

There was a pause then Mrs. Granger asked, "Tell me what he's done now dear."

"He's dating my roommate, Lavender, and being highly obnoxious about it."

"Do you think he's trying to make you jealous?"

"That would be very funny, seeing as how that's what I've been trying to do to him with Harry."

There was another pause, this time a bit longer, before Emma finally said, "That's not a very nice thing to do Hermione. To either of your friends. Is this why Harry had to come visit us instead of going to the Weasley's like you two normally would?" Emma Granger was every bit as bright as her daughter. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

"Yes." Harry could almost see the shame on Hermione's face. "I know it's terrible of me," Hermione rushed on, "But how else can I make Ron see me as a possible girlfriend instead of just a friend!" A sob was heard and another pause followed before Hermione continued softly in an oddly pinched voice, "I don't know what I'd do if Harry was mad at me too."

"He's a very good friend to do this for you."

"Actually," Hermione said, her voice a little stronger, "Harry's trying to make Ron's younger sister, Ginny, jealous."

Pause. "Well, I do hope you're taking time to study in between all this drama." They both laughed. Emma went on, "But seriously Hermione, this all seems very immature for you." A chuckle. "You must have it bad."

"Oh _mum,_" Hermione whined, "I'd hardly say our ploy constituted severe crushing." Then Hermione gave a very un-Hermione like giggle and said, "Besides, it's rather fun pretending to date Harry. So much of the school already thought we were because of that awful Skeeter woman, and Harry's prime boyfriend material. I'd call myself lucky."

"_Mmm-hmm_…he is quite fetching."

"_Mother_!"

Harry, unable to take any more of this, and feeling incredibly _uncomfortable_, chose then to interrupt. He stepped swiftly into the room and said, faking surprised as well as he could, "Oh, there you are Hermione! I was just wondering which was the spare? And also, I'm not entirely sure where the loo is…"

Both Granger women looked as if they'd been caught red-handed with their fingers in the cookie jar.

Hermione blushed scarlet before standing up from her position on the large, queen-size bed next to her mom and heading toward Harry saying nervously, "Oh, I'm sorry Harry. Forgot to show you didn't I?"

As they left what appeared to be the master bedroom, Harry heard Emma call out, "Pleasant dreams Harry!"

Harry followed Hermione down the narrow hallway, lined, as the staircase had been, with various family photos. It was apparent that Mr. and Mrs. Granger doted on their only child. Normally, Harry might have felt a little envy at this, but under the current circumstances, namely Hermione's refusal to even look at him out of embarrassment, he didn't.

She stopped in front of a door and opened it, showing him the bathroom. Wordlessly, she closed the door and traveled on, not bothering to see if he was following.

She stopped again in front of another door, but before opening it, she finally turned to Harry and asked, her cheeks bright red by the light of the moon through the window at the end of the hall, "How much did you hear?"

"Don't know what you're talking about." Hermione glared. "All right! – a little."

Hermione sighed. "This isn't going to become awkward now, is it?"

"You're the one making it awkward!"

Hermione glared again. "I wasn't the one eavesdropping."

"I didn't mean to, and you're one to talk!" Harry quickly added. "You _do_ still remember what we heard last night don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Their voices had steadily gotten louder as they went. Finally, they both stopped, a little out of breath and stood there silent a moment, glaring at each other.

Hermione was the first to start laughing. Harry soon joined her, seeing the ridiculousness of the situation.

Once she was finally able to breathe again, Hermione said, "I suppose it was a little silly of me to get all worked up. It's not like I said anything in there you didn't already know."

Harry nodded, not because he was particularly sure of what she said, but rather because he was glad to finally be getting this behind them. "Yea, it's not like you proclaimed your everlasting love for me or anything," he laughed.

"Yea…" Hermione said absently as she opened the door to the spare, leading the way inside it. It was white-walled like the rest of the house and rather bare, though just as organized and clean. A small twin bed was stuffed against the far wall, his trunk resting at its foot, and beside it sat a small bedside table, on top of which was an alarm clock. Hedwig hooted a greeting, apparently forgiving him the rough landing from earlier. Harry resisted the urge to say, "Home sweet home," for indeed, it had frighteningly accurate comparisons to his own room on Privet Drive.

But then he noticed the carefully folded blankets lying on the bed and the freshly vacuumed rug. They, unlike the Dursely's, had made an effort. Harry turned to Hermione, who looked on the verge of apologizing for the room, and startled her with a hug.

"What was that for?" She asked softly, pulling away.

"For inviting me over I suppose."

"Oh." Hermione tucked some of her bushy hair behind her ear and turned to go. "I'd better get out of here before my mom gets jealous," she said lightly, a grin breaking out on her face as she walked past him.

"By the way," Harry said as she was almost out the door, "Nice ski suit."

Hermione's eyes widened and she quickly fled as Harry laughed. Pink indeed.


	5. Fluttering Golden Snitches

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Fluttering Golden Snitches**

_A/N: This is all the property of J. K. Rowling. Thank you all so much for reviewing, I hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as I enjoy envisioning it. This is the second part of the Holiday chapter. Without further ado…_

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Grasping for his glasses, Harry found himself blinder than usual due to the glistening snow gathered around the spare bedroom's lone window.

Quickly rooting around his trunk for some decent attire, he heard Hedwig give a forlorn hoot.

He abandoned his trunk and lightly stepped over to her, enjoying the feel of the plush carpet as he stepped, he told her, "Don't worry girl." He undid the latch on her cage and she joyfully flew out to rest on his shoulder where she gently nipped at his ear. Harry gave her a soft pat. "I know how much you like flying in the winter. How about a trip to the Weasley's?"

Walking back over to his trunk and successfully locating his parchment, quills and ink, Harry began drafting several letters, Hedwig looking on serenely from his shoulder.

He'd already sent Hedwig the day before with an apology to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, explaining how Hermione had invited him over and he'd felt obligated to visit her for once. He'd try to say it as tactfully as possible and had opted to not mention any of the rift currently separating him from their youngest son.

It had apparently gone over well as Hedwig had returned just before he and Hermione left the Gryffindor common room for the Headmaster's office. Their reply had expressed their disappointment of course, but had said not to worry; they'd surely be seeing him the coming summer.

Harry, not taking anything for granted these days, had felt a twinge of sorrow at abandoning the Weasleys, but he shrugged it off. With the way him and Ron were acting toward each other lately, it wouldn't have been much fun for them either.

The only other thing Harry regretted was not being able to spend the Holidays with Ginny. Dean wouldn't have been around and every time Harry envisioned what his stay at the Weasley's would have been like, he saw Ginny, her long, fiery-red hair falling softly around her flushed face as she stared breathlessly up at him, the shadow of mistletoe hanging delightfully above her like some heavenly halo.

His stomach flittered noxiously at the image. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before staring resolutely back down at the two papers laid out before him.

One was to Ginny of course, and the other…it was for Ron.

Writing to Ginny was easy. He asked her how she was and if she'd thought up any new Chaser moves for the team. He asked her how her family was, and what Fred and George were up to. He told her he was having fun, and that he was sorry he wasn't with them, but that he was glad to get the chance to meet Hermione's parents. He didn't tell her about his vision of her, or the strange beast inside him that attacked only when she was near, whether physically, or just in his mind.

Writing to Ron was another story. He didn't know where to start, and he didn't know what it was he wanted to say. Finally, he scribbled a short note:

_Hi Ron, _

_I wasn't sure what to say, only that I miss you. I hope you have a happy Christmas and that the twins lay off you a bit. _

Harry paused, knowing that he had to say something reassuring to Ron about him and Hermione's relationship, but not coming up with anything that wouldn't give away the fact that it was a sham. All of the sudden, Harry's quill took a mind of its own and the ink continued:

_…And I hope you're happy with your little Lavender, Won-Won. You two deserve each other. Meanwhile, I couldn't be more blissfully content with Hermione. She's the most beautiful, intelligent, interesting girl I've ever met and I don't know how you could have let her go, you snot-nosed, emotionally-retarded toadstool of a Wizard. Best regards,_

_Harry Potter_

_A.K.A, The Luckiest Man on Earth_

Harry, shocked at the audacity of his quill, spun around at the sound of laughter. There stood Hermione, her wand out and a wicked smirk upon her face.

Regaining his composure, Harry said, a smile threatening to overtake his own face, "That wasn't very nice Hermione." Hedwig hooted in agreement.

Hermione stepped fully into his room and carefully put her wand back in the pocket of her jeans. Taking a seat on his bed, she just gave a careless shrug and said, "Well, at least it was sincere."

"I never said it!"

"Yes, but I'm sure you were thinking it," Hermione laughed.

Harry quickly erased Hermione's words and settled with the two sentences he had composed before sealing both the letters in an envelope and handing it to Hedwig's awaiting beak.

"Have a good flight girl. Be careful." Hedwig hooted solemnly in reply and gave Harry one last affectionate peck.

Hermione dutifully pulled back out her wand and with an upward swish, opened the window. Hedwig took off and was almost immediately lost to the white brilliance of the falling snow.

A draft of which spiraled elegantly in through the open window causing Harry to suddenly realize he was still in his pajamas- an overly large, faded shirt that had once been Dudley's, and a pair of boxers, patterned with fluttering golden snitches. (Obviously, the boxers had not been Dudley's)- Harry gave a start. Stammering, partly due to embarrassment and partly due to the frigid air blowing into his room, Harry said, "Hermione…I don't…err…don't suppose you could c..cuuu…close the window could you? And ma…maybe look away or something?"

Hermione swished her wand downward and the window snapped shut with a soft bang. But as to his second request, she only said, "If you really want me to…" and got up to leave.

Almost out the door, she called back over her shoulder mockingly, "By the way Harry, nice underwear."

Harry, his jaw hanging, stood there for a minute. Snapping out of it when Emma announced breakfast, he quickly changed and left the room- vowing revenge with a grin.

Breakfast was a quiet affair of toast and some rather odd flavored jams, after which, Hermione had offered to show Harry around the neighborhood.

"I thought you might enjoy going outside. Sorry we can't really play Quidditch here." Hermione fiddled with the zipper on her black parka before adding dejectedly, "I'm rubbish at it anyway."

Harry would of tried to console her, but she did have a point. Their summer at the Burrow had confirmed it. Instead, he asked, "What was the deal with those jams? They tasted funny…"

"How many times must I remind you Harry," Hermione sighed, "My mom doesn't use _any_ sugar."

"Oh right." Harry looked around at the neighborhood for a moment. The houses, a little older than the ones at Privet Drive, were all evenly spaced. The lawns were all well manicured and up the road, Harry could even see a little park. It looked slightly larger than the one in Little Winging, but only slightly. That was apparently where Hermione was leading him.

In their silence, Harry starting mulling over the strange conversation between Snape and Malfoy once again. They hadn't discussed it any further and Harry was going insane trying to figure it out. Finally, his ears ringing from the quiet and his lips going numb in the cold from lack of use, he said, "It had to be the thing Malfoy wanted Borgin to fix. Snape doesn't know about it. Maybe it's a weapon he's trying to get into the school…or hang on…maybe it's just a way into the school. Don't you reckon?"

"Hmm…what did you say?" Hermione asked, not paying attention, instead, she was looking up the road at a figure headed their way.

"Who's that?" Harry asked nervously. Dumbledore hadn't strictly forbidden him from wandering around, but it had probably been implied. As the figure came closer, he could make out that it was a male, and he was somewhat big. Not Dudley big, but a rugby type big. Not that that was much better.

Hermione started muttered anxiously under her breath, "Oh no…oh no…this isn't good at all."

"What? Who is he?" Harry was now beginning to feel thankful that he'd brought along his wand. He never went anywhere without it after that Dementor attack in Little Winging.

Hermione never got a chance to answer him though as the boy, roughly their age, Harry assumed, called jeeringly to Hermione, "Oy, Granger! What's this? You finally found someone to carry all those books of yours?"

The boy stopped in front of them and sneered down at Hermione. He had shaggy blonde hair and a wide face. His shirt had 'Man-U' stamped proudly on the front.

Harry, tying to prevent a scene, stepped in front of Hermione and said amicably, holding out his hand, "Harry Potter." The boy looked down his nose at Harry's hand as though he'd just been offered a particularly ripe dead skunk.

Harry slowly lowered his hand and said with a false cheeriness he found worked exceedingly well with bullies, "And you are?"

The boy looked shocked that Harry hadn't back down, but he came on again with, "Charles Whitnow, you daft prick. Everybody knows me."

"I certainly don't," Harry said coldly.

"What?" Charles said in mock surprise. "You mean to say that little miss know-it-all Hermy here hasn't mentioned to her boyfriend about her old school chums? Tut tut." Charles cracked his knuckles menacingly and laughed.

"It's clear why." Harry said, his hand inching toward his wand unconsciously.

"Tell me, what was it again?" Charles put his finger to his head as if trying to recall something. Finally he seemed to remember it and said evilly, "Potty?" Harry's teeth clenched. "Does Hermy still jump up and down like an orangutan every time teacher asks something?"

Hermione, making a bold move, sprang up between them. Giving Charles an icy glare, she said coolly, "Harry, this is Charles. He was the _second_ best student in all my grade school classes."

Charles sputtered, clearly at a loss as to Hermione's new backbone. Harry taunted, "What's wrong Charley? Couldn't measure up? Got beat learning your abc's? Way to carry a petty grudge mate."

"I'm no mate of yours geek!" Charles shouted angrily, his wide face growing steadily redder. When the only reaction he got was laughter from the two, Charles pushed Hermione, trying to get at Harry- more than likely to punch him in the face. Hermione fell painfully to the ground.

An intense rage swelled up in Harry's chest at seeing her lying helplessly there on the snowy pavement, water starting to come to her eyes. Drawing his wand faster than the eye could follow, and perhaps faster than his brain could register, Harry hexed Whitnow. "_Tarantallegra_!"

Immediately, it was as though Charles's shoes had been possessed to tap dance.

"HEY! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS!?" He screamed, frightened as he twirled away from the two. He tried running away, but kept falling down, his legs awkwardly kicking out in seizure like bursts.

"Harry! What have you done!" Hermione shouted, aghast.

"_Finite." _Harry said, his anger spent. The spell ended and Charles collapsed to the ground in shock, panting hard and staring with absolute horror at Harry and Hermione. Harry slowly lowered his own wand, a sinking sensation taking up the place of rage in his chest. But he didn't feel guilty enough to apologize. The git had deserved whatever fear Harry had knocked into him. In a resigned voice, Harry asked her quietly, "Do you think you can obliviate him?"

"We've got bigger problems than that." Hermione said, her voice slightly impatient. "The Ministry is going to be after you again."

"But I was with you!" Harry said, exasperated. He bent down to offer Hermione a hand up. "The Ministry can't differentiate who cast a spell, that's why they were able to get me two summers ago. They knew I was the only Wizard in Little Winging."

"Yes, but just as it was then, they'll be looking for an excuse to get to you," she said distractedly, her eyes on Whitnow. With a frighteningly clarity, she knelt down in front of the terrified Whitnow and pointed her wand directly in between his wide-eyes. Without the slightest bit of hesitation, she said, "_Obliviate_!"

Immediately, Charles's eyes drooped and his expression went slack. With a look of someone just waking out of a very wonderful dream, he said as though tipsy, "I think my mum has tea ready by now…really must be off." And he clumsily got to his feet and slunk off back up the road, his path resembling that of a drunken sailor as he went back and forth on his feet.

"You know, I really must agree with Ron on this one…you can be bloody scary sometimes," Harry said as they walked quickly back to Hermione's house.

As soon as she had shut the door behind him, Hermione turned to Harry, her expression leaving no leeway for argument. "Quickly Harry, give me your wand."

Bewildered, and somewhat frightened, Harry handed over his Phoenix wand.

Hermione snatched it angrily from him, as though this were entirely his fault, and shoved her own wand into his still out-stretched hand.

"Go get your invisibility cloak and wrap my wand in it," Hermione barked, glancing nervously out the front window. Harry stood there a moment. "GO! And bring the cloak and wand back down here!" Hermione shouted at him.

Harry quickly did as he was told, wondering as he flew up the stairs if perhaps Hermione was possessed.

Just when he'd located his cloak, crushed in between his school robes and the Prince's book, he heard the doorbell. He wrapped the shimmery star-patterned material of his beloved cloak around Hermione's Dragon-heartstring wand. The wand and cloak suddenly vanished from view, although Harry could still feel the smooth texture of the cloak beneath his hands. He quickly ran back down the stairs to the sitting room.

There was now a man standing in the doorway to Hermione's house. He was tall and thin, with gray streaks running through his hair, not unlike Lupin's. But his Wizarding robes- a deep purple- although not fancy, were much sharper than the Werewolf's usual shabby attire. He looked like an old lion, and when he saw Harry, his leonine expression only intensified as he smiled.

"Ah, Mr. Potter I presume?" It was then that Harry noticed the envelope in his weathered hands.

Feeling apprehensive, Harry slowly walked the last steps down to the landing and nodded, his fist clenched at his side gripping the invisible bundle.

The man turned briefly to Hermione, and her parents who had just walked in, "I wonder, could I briefly have a word with Mr. Potter?" Although he asked politely, there was a hint of a command in his voice.

Hermione looked at her parents and said, "This is the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. We'll just be a minute." Dan and Emma nodded, a little perplexed, and left their daughter. They knew Hermione would have every thing under control.

The Minister, who was not at all amused by Hermione's decision to stay, said with a forced politeness, "Miss Granger, I see you are up to speed on your politics."

Hermione gave a small frown, but said nothing.

Harry, confused as Mr. and Mrs. Granger as to why the Minister of Magic himself would be delivering him a Misuse of Magic letter here in a muggle neighborhood two days before Christmas, asked, "What did you want to talk with me about, Minister?"

Deciding that there was nothing he could do about Hermione's presence, Scrimgeour said, flourishing the letter to Harry, "I have come to give you this." Harry slowly accepted the letter, dreading what he would find within it. "Now," the Minister continued, he eye's lighting to Harry's discomfort, "Seeing as you have already once received a warning from the Misuse of Magic office, the situation looks grim Mr. Potter."

His fingers trembling as he opened the letter, Harry said softly, "I'm to be expelled then?"

A look of satisfaction passed briefly over Scrimgeour's face before he said, "Well Harry, I being Minister, _could_ grant you full pardon…"

"What did you have in mind?" Harry asked, his heart sinking. Scrimgeour was worse than Fudge!

Delicately, the Minister answered, "You are a very influential person Harry. And right now, what with Dumbledore turning his back on the Ministry, we need a visible spokesman, of sorts. It would ease a lot of the panic going on these days in the magical community and could help to restore faith in the Ministry of Magic if you would agree."

"A Ministry that blackmails sixteen year olds and imprisons innocent men?" Harry said, anger filling him at the man's audacity. How dare he ask him to betray Dumbledore and turn a blind eye to the horrible things they were doing!

The Minister looked taken aback, but quickly pointed at the unread letter in Harry's hand and said darkly, "The choice is yours Harry, but a second breech of the Decree of Underage Wizardry is serious business."

Suddenly, Hermione stepped forward and said icily, her voice full of confidence, "Begging to differ Minister, but Harry was cleared of all charges by Minister Fudge himself and the Wizengamot committee. And what conclusive evidence do you have to accuse Harry of casting a spell? I was the one to fire the _Tarantallegra_. And there's nothing you can do to prove otherwise."

Harry gaped in awe at Hermione, but the Minister looked less-than-thrilled. Angrily, he said to her, "Let me see both of your wands then, if I'm so powerless."

Hermione, the hint of a smirk gracing her features, pulled out Harry's wand from her pocket and said, "Mine's not here, I left it at Hogwarts over the break."

"And you just happen to have used _that_ most unusual spell with Mr. Potter's wand this morning. How convenient," Scrimgeour sneered sarcastically and then raising his own wand high, yelled, "_Accio_ Miss Granger's wand!"

Harry barely had time to tighten his grip around the invisibility cloak as Hermione's wand attempted to zoom into the Minister's awaiting hand. He thought it strange that no _Protego _had to be cast to keep the bundle in his grip, but was grateful none-the-less.

Scrimgeour apparently didn't notice the spasm-like lurch Harry's hand gave or the brief look of relief that passed his face.

The Minister waited several moments before lowering his wand and his outstretched hand disappointedly. He rounded on Hermione in frustration. "What are you doing with Mr. Potter's wand anyway, young lady! And why would you have used that jinx?"

Hermione regarded him coldly before saying, "Harry's an awful dancer. I thought I'd help him out a bit."

Scrimgeour stood glaring at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Regaining his composure, he pointed his wand at Harry's and cast, almost dreading the answer, "_Priori Incantantum_."

Instead of the wispy ghost of _Tarantallegra_ spooling out of Harry's wand tip, the sporadic jerks of Whitnow's lower legs disappearing as if a mist were being blown gently away, the spell showed nothing.

"What is wrong with Mr. Potter's wand Miss Granger? Why is no spell on it? Did you perhaps hide the guilty wand before my arrival, banishing it?"

Hermione gave a hollow laugh. "Minister Scrimgeour, isn't it obvious that a _Finite _was cast to stop the affects of the spell. You don't see Harry tap-dancing, do you? And, as I'm sure you know, counter-jinxes leave no signature."

Lowering his wand in defeat, the Minister stared darkly from Hermione and then to Harry before he said, making one last effort, "You could help the Wizarding World Harry…"

"Hogwarts and Dumbledore will help me do that, _Minister_. Maybe if you released Stan Shunpike and started making some real effort to get Voldemort…but I won't consider helping you before that, so don't come around me again with some trumped up charge."

There was a long pause and then Scrimgeour shook his head in disbelief before he said quietly, "You really are Dumbledore's man…"

"Through and through."

Scrimgeour glared and then gave a curt nod before swishing his purple cloak around and leaving.

Harry and Hermione stood motionless for a few minutes after he left, making sure they could hear the tell-tale pop of his disapparation before moving.

"You were brilliant Hermione! I was completely clueless until he used _Accio."_ Harry said, grinning down at her as he unfolded the invisibility cloak and handed her back her wand.

Hermione accepted it, her face flushing slightly. She handed him back his wand and said, "You weren't too bad yourself." Her voice a little harder, she said, "Scrimgeour is unpleasant isn't he? I thought it'd be better with Fudge gone, and a Minister with Magical law-enforcement background to lead us at a time like this, but…he's every bit as conniving."

"Good thing you are too…" Harry said, still impressed with her. Suddenly, he remembered what had brought all this on. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"You had it pretty bad in grade school didn't you?"

"Yes…Whitnow and others would always tease me, kind of how Ron does sometimes…but at least Ron is my…was my…Err!" Hermione cried in frustration, throwing up her hands. "I'm so tired of this Harry…I miss him…"

"I know, me too. Maybe if you wrote him a letter…"

"No, he might be mad at you, but I fear he's furious with me. I'll…I'll just have to try talking to him- try to reason with him- after the break."

"So we'll have officially 'dumped' each other over the holidays then?"

Hermione looked at him, some unreadable expression cast over her face as she studied his. "Let's play it by ear." She said finally.


	6. The Phoenix Below Hogwarts

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**The Phoenix below Hogwarts**

_A/N: Thank you all so much for reviewing, it spurs me to crank these out as best I can. J.K. Rowling owns all. This is the final part of the Holiday chapter, please enjoy and be sure to review. _

The purple jet of light passed through Hermione's chest as though it had been nothing more than a gentle breeze. She gave a small look of surprise, and a soft, "oh," formed on her lips before she gracefully fell to the floor, the magnified bang of her head hitting the ground making Harry want to scream.

Neville and the Death Eaters, only shadows before, vanished completely from view as Harry ran toward the crumpled heap of his bushy-haired best friend. Kneeling down beside her, he checked for a pulse. He found none. His heart in the grips of panic and moisture falling in great waves down his cheeks, though why there was water in the Department of Mysteries to fall on him, he did not know, Harry scooped Hermione up in his arms and cradled her, rocking her prone body back and forth in his anguish.

The softest of moans reached his ears, and he quickly looked down at her face to see it animated. She was alive!

He hugged her to him, as tightly as he could, not daring to let her go for fear she would dissolve into death once more, but Hermione would have none of it. With weakened hands, she forcefully shoved him back a little so she could tell him something.

The words were falling from her mouth, too light to hear, so Harry slowly tilted his ear to her mouth, his arms still tightly wrapped around her.

"…mudbloods and half-bloods, Harry…mudbloods and half-bloods…" She drifted off and fell limply against his chest, unmoving once more.

"What are you talking about Hermione!" Harry cried. He cupped her face in his hands, desperate for a word, a glance, a flicker of life to appear on her cold, pale face. But there was none.

Harry continued to cry, "What are you talking about! What are you talking about! Hermione…HERMIONE!"

"Harry! Stop shouting before I have to stun you!"

Harry opened his eyes with a start and sat up quickly in his bed. He was covered in sweat and his sheets were in disarray, strewn every which way. His comforter must have fallen off the bed entirely because he couldn't even see it. But none of that mattered, for there sat Hermione on the side of his bed, alive and well, her worried face peering anxiously into his own.

"Hermione!" Harry flung his arms around her and pulled her into a bone-crushing, Hagrid-like hug.

"This is- all well and good- Harry. But I should- really like- to- breathe- sometime," Hermione gasped into his shirt, turning purple in the face.

Reluctantly, Harry pulled away. "Sorry," he said weakly, "I was just…err…having a nightmare when you woke me up."

"Really, a nightmare about me? Charming…" But Harry could tell she wasn't mad, her lips were twitching, attempting to hide her amusement. There was a pause and then both of them broke out in smiles, Harry- remembering what morning it was- Hermione because she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Happy Christmas Harry," she said finally, reaching around behind her for something. It was a present, wrapped in glittering gold paper with a bright red bow on top.

He took it from her, mystified by its odd shape and size. Hermione, not giving him a book! What were the odds?

She must have seen the surprised look on his face, because she said quickly, her face tuning slightly red, "I thought you might…uh, enjoy this more than whatever Dark Arts Defense book I could find…but don't worry! You will definitely be receiving plenty of those as well…they're under the tree. I wanted to give you this one up here, in case my parents invited any of their friends over this morning- they sometimes do- anyway…I hope you like it…"

Harry untied the bow and gingerly ripped open the wrapping paper to expose a snow globe.

Not just any old run-of-the-mill snow globe though. He could see why she didn't want any muggles, not weary of the magical world to see it. The snow globe was set atop a Phoenix, whose likeness greatly resembled Fawkes. The Phoenix was poised for takeoff, or as if it were just about to vanish in its plume of fire, and between its flaming wings rested the snow globe.

If Harry had thought the Phoenix base to be beautiful, the scene captured within the snow globe itself was far more magical. Truly.

Inside the dome of glass was a miniature Hogwarts, snow lightly raining down on it, and there, standing in front of its Great Oak doors, was Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, and Ginny. All six of who were waving enthusiastically up at Harry, great smiles of happiness on their tiny little faces as they broke up and began pelting each other with snowballs.

Harry watched them go at it for a bit, enjoying it immensely when tiny Hermione socked tiny Ron in the face with a particularly large snowball. Little Harry was sneaking up behind little Ginny and Luna as they stalked behind miniature Neville who was himself laughing at tiny Ron.

He looked up from the wondrous scene; a winter wonderland encased in Phoenix fire, and said to Hermione, his voice cracking slightly, "I don't know what to say Hermione…it's…it's amazing."

Hermione beamed at him. "I wanted you to have something you could take with you, no matter where you go, that would always bring you back to us…your friends."

"You mean, you all made this for me?"

"Well, not exactly- I made it, but I had to have a hair from each of us to cast the spell over it, and everyone agreed, even Ron…"

"Which spell?"

Hermione, looking somewhat pleased with herself, said, "The one that allows you to know how we're feeling and if we're safe."

Harry took a second look at the little figures, who were still pelting each other happily with the snow, and saw that all of them continued to smile and laugh at each other and with each other.

"But they haven't stopped smiling…"

"Well of course not silly! It's Christmas morning, who in their right mind would be otherwise?"

"You've got a point."

"I always try to, now come on! Mum and dad will be waiting…"

And sure enough, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were seated in front of the modest Christmas tree, looking longingly at the many presents piled beneath when Harry and Hermione came upon them.

"So you decided not to invite the Thompson's this year?" Hermione asked her parents as she sat in one of the recliners, Harry taking the other.

Emma responded, prying her eyes away from a particularly large present with a tag reading her name, "Yes dear. We already have Harry, and later today, your Professor will be coming…didn't see much point in having more guests over." Turning to her husband, she said, "They're finally here Dan. _Now_ can we begin?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged smirks at her mother's excitement.

"Yes sweetie, but our guest should go first." Dan gave a wink at Harry.

Harry laughed outright as Emma gave a moan and muttered, "Must we? We don't have to be polite…it's all non sense really…"

Dan scooted over on the couch and gave his wife a hug before kissing her cheek. "I was only teasing, Emma. Harry already got something from Hermione this morning, so the honor is all yours."

"Thank you honey!" Emma cried joyfully as she rushed over to the large present, ripping the paper off violently to reveal a new computer.

"You said we've been needing a new one down at the office…Santa must have thought so as well," Dan said, smiling lovingly at his wife.

She turned to her husband with tears in her eyes and rushed back over to him, flinging herself into his out-stretched arms. "It's exactly what I wanted," she cooed, "Thank you…" and they exchanged an impassioned kiss, oblivious to their guest Harry.

Hermione gave him an apologetic grin, looking slightly embarrassed. She cleared her throat. "Who's next?" She asked pointedly.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger snapped out of their rapture with each other and looked guiltily at Harry before Dan said, addressing his daughter, "Why don't you go, honey. Ladies first and all that I'm told…"

Hermione selected a bag, decorated in unicorn and mistletoe print. Inside, she found several books: Dark Arts Through the Ages, Basics to Aurors, So You Want to Set a Ward?, The Magic of Healing- Seventh Edition, and Dueling Tactics for the Advanced Witch or Wizard.

She pulled each book out one by one and then peered into the bottom of the bag. She looked up from it and shot Harry a grin, but didn't disclose if anything else was in the bag. Harry knew it was the pack of sugar quills he'd set there.

Hermione took her bundle happily back to the chair with her and told Harry, "I suppose you saw the sale in Hogsmeade as well then? These are all the ones I got you!"

It turned out that she had gotten him one further- Tricks of the Mind, Occulemency and Legimency.

Later that morning, when everyone was in the dining room, eating a brunch that Harry and Hermione had concocted- it consisted of eggs, bacon, biscuits, and that most unusual unsweetened jam- Hedwig returned.

Harry gave a shout of welcome to his snow-colored, and in this case, snow-covered, companion. "Hi girl!" She landed in his lap, much to Mr. and Mrs. Granger's shock and hooted a hello back. "What took you so long?" She looked balefully up at him for a moment before turning to his plate and hungrily nipping at some biscuit crumbles. Fearing she'd been attacked, for Hedwig never took long to deliver letters, Harry checked her over, muttering quietly to her, "Didn't run into any trouble, did you?"

"Is she alright dear?" Emma asked, concern on her face. Dan looked on the verge of protesting that the table was no place for birds, but held his tongue.

"She seems alright…here's the letter. Maybe the Weasley's know why she was so delayed."

Hermione muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes, "They probably _were_ the ones to detain her, honestly." But she read over his shoulder anyway:

_Dear Harry, _

_Hi! I'm glad you're getting to meet the Grangers, though I wish you could be here. Fred and George are giving Ron constant grief over Lavender, and it's become a little annoying to tell you the truth. I'm fine, though Phlegm is proving to find new and better ways to irritate me. Speaking of irritating, Percy showed up! He had some excuse of wanting to see us, but it was all the Minister's fault he was here. They were looking for you. Mom made the stupid mistake of telling them you were at Hermione's. I hope that didn't cause you too much trouble. As far as Quidditch moves go, I think they're better left demonstrated than described, so I'll just show you next practice. There's this one that I think you will like. Look forward to seeing you when term begins, have a happy Christmas!_

_Love,_

_Ginny_

_P.S. We kept Hedwig longer than we should have because Pig kept having a fit every time she'd try to leave. We finally ended up having to put him in a cage. I fear he's developed quite a crush on her. _

There was another letter behind Ginny's. It was far shorter and less endearing.

_Hey Harry. Feels odd not calling you mate. Yea, I miss you a little. Why'd you have to go and date her though? You knew. But I guess it doesn't matter. Just stings quite a bit. I'm not sure when I'll be over it, but it certainly isn't now. _

_Later,_

_Ron_

"Well," Hermione said finally, her lips thinned into a frown, "At least he said your name, and he said 'hey.' That's amicable enough, especially under the circumstances…"

"Yea, I could just feel the brotherly love emanating from his letter…almost burned me it was so tender."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave an amused scoff. "It'll be better once we-"

There was a disturbance in the sitting room and all the occupants at the table, even Hedwig, gave a start. Harry pulled out his wand and gave Hermione a quick glance- she had done the same- before cautiously tiptoeing to the sitting room.

"Harry! Hermione! It's so good to see you both!" Lupin said after they'd almost accidentally cursed him. Mr. and Mrs. Granger peeked curiously into the room, and seeing no imminent danger, came to join the two Gryffindors. "Ah, this must be your parents Hermione." Lupin held out a hand to them each.

Hermione suddenly realized that her hostess skills were severely lacking and jumped forth to introduce. "Professor Lupin, these are my parents- Daniel and Emily Granger. Mum, Dad, this is my favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Remus J. Lupin."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger took in Lupin's shabby attire, his sunken, hollow face and his worn eyes before they both gave him a smile and warmly introduced themselves.

"A real pleasure to meet you Mr. Lupin. Hermione's gone on and on about how much she learned in your class." Dan said, shaking Lupin's hand so enthusiastically that Lupin actually looked embarrassed.

"Remus is fine. In fact," he gave Hermione a warm look, "I believe I told your daughter to do likewise, as I am no longer her teacher. And I'm honored that she would say that of me- Hermione is undoubtedly the brightest Witch I've every had the privilege of meeting." Hermione blushed readily at this.

"That's so nice of you to say…Remus. Please call me Emma; Emily was my mother's name. Would you care for some brunch? We had just sat down when Harry's owl came, and then you…uh…well, however it is you lot get here." Emma said, smiling wildly at their new guest as a mother hen would a new chick. Harry was frightened she would turn into Mrs. Weasley at any moment and begin telling Lupin how peckish he looked and how he needed to be fed up a bit, though both were true.

Lupin looked like he wanted to object, Harry suspecting that it wasn't anywhere in Lupin's nature to impose on anyone, when Mrs. Granger exclaimed, "Oh no you don't! I insist you have some brunch. The kids made far too much and it's so exciting to finally meet one of Hermione's teachers…" She grabbed Remus by the hand and Dan, chuckling at his wife's enthusiasm placed a comforting hand on Lupin's shoulder and they both, literally, dragged the poor werewolf into the dining room.

Lupin was quickly found a chair and a plate, on which Emma took responsibility for piling high with mountains of the food they had left. Seating herself and staring fixedly at Lupin, Emma began, conversationally, "So Remus, tell us a little of yourself. You seem such an interesting fellow- what are you doing these day now that you're no longer teaching at Hogwarts?"

Inconspicuously sneaking food to Crookshanks, who had taken up residence below Lupin's chair, he said in between bite-fulls, "Find myself mostly on the roads these days- doing odd jobs for the headmaster- Dumbledore."

Hermione nearly snorted on her eggs when she saw the professional way Lupin was smuggling food to her cat, but she didn't say anything. Instead, it was Harry who spoke, addressing the Grangers. "Lupin was the one who taught me to do a _Patronus,"_ he said eagerly, hoping to divert their attention- Lupin had two too many secrets to uphold for the flow their conversation had been taking.

Still chewing slowly, Lupin shot Harry a thankful look, but Dan and Emma looked confused. "What's patronusing?" Dan asked, intrigued.

"Not patronusing dad, it's a _Patronus- _It's a spell and an entity, of sorts," Hermione told her father patiently before continuing, looking at her mother as well. "It's a sort of protector you summon to ward off creatures called Dementors who feed on happy emotions and force one to relive their darkest memories. To put it bluntly, a Dementor drains all your happy thoughts, leaving you cold and lifeless." Not seeing the looks of horror on her parent's faces, Hermione went on obliviously, "Not only that, but given the chance, a Dementor will suck your soul from you with their form of a 'kiss'. They're the cause of all the nasty weather we had this summer, and the unnatural cold we're having right now."

Dan and Emma sat motionless, horrified, staring at their daughter as if she had grown a new head. Lupin took in the awkward silence and said quietly, "And ten points to Miss Granger."

Suddenly, to ease the moment, and partly because he'd been longing to show Lupin his improvement, Harry said, "I can show you a Patronus if you'd like, they're much pleasanter than Dementors, and have sort of the opposite affect…" Dan and Emma looked skeptically at each other, but seeing the eager look in Harry's eyes and the excitement forming in their daughter's, they agreed to it. "You'll see…" Harry reassured and then pulling out his Phoenix-feathered wand was about to shout '_Expecto Patronum'_ when Hermione bodily tackled him to the dining room floor.

"Ugh," Harry moaned, picking himself up and clutching his pounding head. He glared at Hermione who had quickly removed herself from her previous position- on top of him- and had journeyed to a safer place, behind Lupin. "What the…" he remembered who he was talking in front of, "Why did you do that Hermione!?"

"Have you already forgotten our visit from the Minister Harry?" Hermione asked, looking astonished, and even slightly angry.

"Oh… yea." He hid his mortification by turning away to see where Hedwig had flown off to at the sudden dive he'd taken. Not seeing her, he had no choice but to turn back and face the group. "Uh, thanks then Hermione. Why don't you show your parents then."

Hermione, looking slightly more composed, gave a nod. She closed her eyes and a smile slowly spread across her face. She reopened them and said firmly, "_Expecto Putronum_!"

Almost immediately, a blindingly white glow of energy sprung forth from her wand tip in the form of an otter. Hermione commanded it with her whirling wand to swim about the room and perform amazing acts of acrobatics.

Emma exclaimed, enamored at the entity, "What a wondrous thing! And it's so adorable!" Dan could only nod in agreement, for he had become engrossed in his daily paper.

Lupin followed the otter's path, a slow grin creasing his withered face further. When Hermione had allowed the otter to fade away, Lupin's eyes came to rest on her, and he looked as proud as surely as Dan or Emma had ever been of their daughter. "That was incredible Hermione! How did you ever learn to do it so well?"

Hermione, her anger with him forgotten, looked at Harry and gave a soft smile. She looked back to Lupin, "I had a good teacher."

"But surely…Crouch…even Snape…don't you dare tell me it was that hag Umbridge!"

Hermione laughed. "Oh no, none of them. The only thing I learned from that awful woman, Umbridge, was how to appreciate the humor of Fred and George Weasley."

"Then who…wait, don't tell me. You figured it out on your own! Sirius was right… I mean, sure, Lily was certainly intelligent…more than that, she was a genius, but you're on a different league Hermione. Why, even Harry had to have some help-

"It _was_ Harry, Professor." Hermione said, unable to take the false praise any further, and surely, her face not able to turn a shade more scarlet.

"Oh." Lupin looked slowly from Hermione to Harry, something unreadable dawning on him and then his smile doubled. "Yes…of course. I might have known. Have you ever considered teaching as a profession Harry?"

Harry was surprised, he'd always planned to be an Auror, it was kind of in his job/prophesy description. He told Lupin as much.

"Well," said Lupin, his smile unwavering, "You might consider it, after this whole affair with Voldemort is over. You're well suited for it."

"Err…thanks."

"If I may," said Lupin to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, "I'd really appreciate having a private word with Harry and Hermione."

"Of course!" Said Emma swiftly. "I'm sorry to take up so much of your time. You must have other places to go, this being Christmas and all. By all means, why don't you three head back to the sitting room and talk there. Dan and I will leave you be, right honey?"

Dan looked up from his newspaper, surprised to hear his name called. "Yes dear, of course."

Once Harry, Lupin, and Hermione were settled in the sitting room, Hermione asked, "How is the Order doing Pro- uh, Remus?"

Lupin's prematurely aged shoulders sagged even further as he said dourly, "Not well I'm afraid. But then again, I haven't been out on the front lines with them lately."

"What has Dumbledore been having you do?" Harry asked from his recliner by the fire.

"I've been underground, trying to recruit others like me to our cause…or at least to persuade them against Voldemort's. But it's been tedious at best. I fear Greyback's been with them all before me and turned them against us already."

"Who's Grey-"

But Hermione cut him off, "Remember that article, earlier in the year Harry? Greyback is that lunatic werewolf fighting for Voldemort. He _enjoys_ being a Werewolf."

"So much so," said Lupin wearily, "That he doesn't let his human form stop him from behaving as one."

"You mean to say…" Harry trailed off uneasily, his mind going down a dark and unsettling road.

"Yes. It's rumored that he attacks others even when he's not transformed. He's apparently gotten a taste for human flesh."

"I'd heard," said Hermione breathlessly, "The he'll even station himself near small children right before a full moon."

"That's more than a rumor Hermione." Lupin paused and looked sadly at the two of them before continuing. "I can attest to its trueness."

Hermione brought her hand over her mouth, horrified. She looked on the verge of tears for the tragic man before her. Needlessly, she whispered, "Then he was the one that…"

"Yes sweet girl. He was the one that turned me into this haggard waste of flesh you see before you. My father had apparently rubbed him the wrong way, so, being too cowardly to duel my Auror father, he took it out on me instead."

Tears now falling down her face, Hermione nearly sobbed, "I'm so sorry Professor!"

Lupin looked surprised. "No no. Don't be sorry Hermione. You've done nothing wrong. Quite the contrary. It's Greyback who need be sorry, if I ever have the opportunity of seeing him again that is."

"Or me." Harry said.

Lupin smiled at the two of them, touched to have such concern over him.

Harry asked, remembering once again that nagging conversation, "Hermione and I overheard Snape talking to Malfoy the night before we left on break." He glanced briefly at Hermione, daring her to argue, "And I think that Malfoy is planning something, and he's doing it under Voldemort's order- as a Death Eater."

Lupin considered this for a moment, looking non-pulsed. Finally he said, "This is quite a scenario, especially given Lucius's failure at the Department…" Lupin looked pained for a moment, lines of misery forming over his weathered face. Harry didn't need to ask what was wrong. The death of Sirius Black would haunt both men until their dying day. "I just don't see Voldemort entrusting something big enough to keep from Severus in young Draco's hands," Lupin affirmed at last.

"But Professor-"

"Remus, Hermione." Lupin reprimanded with a smile. "For one my age, who looks twice it, it is somewhat reassuring to be addressed by your first name when in the company of friends."

"Right, _Remus_, you're overlooking the fact that Voldemort may have given Draco the task precisely _because_ Lucius failed."

"Ah, you may have a point there Hermione," Lupin said, mulling it over in his mind.

"It might even be a suicide mission…" Harry suggested, unsure of how he felt if that were true.

"What if…" Hermione said slowly, the frequency of her thoughts nearly dizzying Lupin and Harry, "Voldemort gave Draco this kamikaze mission- if you will- under the circumstances of holding Lucius and Narcissa over his head?"

"It's possible. Voldemort cares little, if indeed at all for his followers. He tortures them nearly as often as he tortures muggle-borns. And holding his parents over Draco would certainly fit in with his sadistic nature. But what is this great plan he has Draco trying foolhardy to attempt? That's what I'd like to know." Lupin said, conjuring up some tea for them.

Harry accepted his cup and said, "As I was trying to tell Hermione the other day, right before we ran into an old…err…acquaintance of hers, Malfoy's got to either be bringing some kind of weapon into Hogwarts or he's just plain finding a way in for his masked buddies."

"Piecing together the conversations we've overheard him have with Borgin and Snape, it does seem likely…" Hermione concluded reluctantly.

"Well, you can be sure I'll mention all this to Dumbledore at the next Order meeting, but it's more than likely he already knows all this and more." Lupin said, taking a last sip and standing up.

Hermione shot Harry an 'I told you so' look before standing up as well and imploring to Lupin, "Leaving already? Are you meeting someone later today?"

Lupin shook his head sadly. "No, but I need to get home just in case someone is waiting there for me."

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked, admiring how resigned Lupin seemed at facing them.

Lupin gave a wry smile. "Not exactly. A creature of far more danger, but I hope to see you both soon. Until next time, remember to guard each others backs and stay out of trouble…or, at the very least, don't go looking _too_ hard for it."

He pulled from his pocket his pinch of floo powder, but just as he was about to step into the fireplace, Hermione cried, "Wait Professor! I forgot to give you your gift!"

Harry was as surprised as Lupin. When had Hermione had the chance to buy Lupin something? They hadn't known he'd be coming here until only a few days ago.

When she had disappeared up the stairs, Lupin asked him quietly, "Where's Ron, Harry?"

"We're not getting on very well at the moment."

"It's about Hermione, isn't it?" Lupin said, shaking his head. So softly, Harry wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it or not, Lupin added, "She's quite the witch, reminds me so much of Lily."

"But Lily had red hair, and was well…"

"Surely you were not going to say prettier Harry?" Lupin asked shrewdly. "I don't know, perhaps it's just me, but Hermione's quick wit, empathy, loyalty, and not to mention her other talents, seem to let her make up for what she may lack in beauty. Though to be quite honest, she's not bad. I think you're just stuck on her bushy hair and what you remember her to be like when you two first met. Obviously Ron is starting to see her for what she is…"

Harry, floored that he was having such a conversation, with Lupin to boot, quickly tried to make amends, "That's not it. I think Hermione's great. But lately, I'm just really caught up in Ginny Weasley. And Ron's liked Hermione for much longer than just recently. I think he liked her as far back as forth year. Now that I think she returns his feelings, they're rather messed up. Hermione has been pretending to date me the last couple of weeks in order to make him jealous, and that's the cause of all the animosity between the three of us."

"If Sirius were here," Lupin said, inhaling at the utterance of his fellow Marauder, "He would, forgive the language, but laugh his ass off."

Harry laughed. "You're right about that!" Suddenly, it didn't feel so awful to remember Sirius, it felt kind of good, kind of needed.

The patter of footsteps descending the stairs alerted them to Hermione's imminent arrival. Lupin quickly whispered to Harry, "Maybe it's a Potter trait to fall for red-haired women, Harry, but just remember that red-hair was not Lily's only quality."

"What's that about Lily?" Hermione asked, holding out a large vile of potion to Lupin.

Lupin stared at the vile a very long time, not answering her question nor taking it from her hand. A look of disbelief on his face, he finally uttered, "You didn't…that's unbelievable…" At last looking at Hermione, Lupin swallowed and then said quietly, "I don't know how you do it Hermione, but you're amazing."

Hermione blushed, but still held the vile firmly before her, saying, "Well go on and take it, after the time I spent on it, it'd be horrible if you didn't."

Lupin looked into her eyes as he grasped the vile from her. It seemed to Harry as though he meant to burn his thankfulness into her retinas. He finally broke his eye contact and regarded with awe the potion in his hand. "I haven't had Wolfsbane since I left my post as your teacher."

"Snape refuse to give you any for the road?" Harry asked, his voice bitter at the thought of the slimy git.

"It's somewhat impossible, both our schedules too full to allow for the exchange, and unless Dumbledore is mentioning it to him, Severus isn't likely to do me any favors."

"Remus?" Hermione suddenly asked.

"Yes?"

"How well did Snape know Lily?"

Harry inhaled sharply, angered that Hermione was bringing this up again, but Lupin answered calmly, "I'm not sure. Although Lily and I always got on well enough, I didn't much know Severus very well in school. Naturally, I felt bad for him when James and Sirius got a hold of him, but that was basically the extent of our interaction. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, her voice sounding defeated for once. "It was just the way Snape behaves whenever Lily is mentioned. I just get this feeling…"

"That he cared for her?" Lupin asked astonished.

Hermione looked as if she felt foolish for suggesting it, Harry prayed that she did. "Yea…silly, I know…"

"Maybe, maybe not. Who's to say for sure but Severus himself? I'm certainly not going to ask him." Lupin looked at the old clock above the mantle and said, "I'm sorry, but I really have to be going now." He gave a surprised Hermione a quick hug and whispered his thanks once again before stepping into the fireplace. Right before disappearing into the green flame, he gave a wink to Harry, but he may have just imagined it, or it could have been due to the floo powder.

As soon as he was gone, Harry rounded on Hermione, "Why do you persist in bringing that up! That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard Hermione!"

"I'll continue with my suspicions until you prove me wrong. I think it explains a lot."

"And one more thing," Harry said, his temper calming but still in the throws of inane anger, "When was it exactly that you had the time to make a Wolfsbane potion, arguably the hardest potion out there to brew?"

Hermione gave him an icy look before saying, her chin upraised, "When I decided to show you and your Prince up. Bet he never made a Wolfsbane in his sixth year."

"Hang on," Harry's anger had drained completely from him, as the tide leaves the bay, on the mention of the Prince. The Half-Blood Prince… "What was it you told me this morning?"

"What are you talking about Harry?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"In the Department of Mysteries, right before you died, you said something…"

Hermione now looked frightened. "Harry, I'm alive and well, I can assure you. I didn't die there. Dolohov just hit me with that terrible spell."

"Shh…" Harry muttered, putting his finger over her mouth to silence her. What had she said! He couldn't remember. The real memory of that fateful night was once again the only he could recall, the nightmare happily forgotten. "Oh well…guess it doesn't really matter."

"It certainly seemed to matter to you."

"Then why have I already forgotten it?"

"Maybe it wasn't something you wanted to think about?" Hermione suggested, glad he had snapped out of whatever it was that had taken such a feverish hold of him.

"No…it probably wasn't." Harry headed up the stairs to the spare, looking forward to watching his snow globe. Over his shoulder, he called, "Tell your mom I'll be down for dinner, I'm just going to lay down for a bit."

"Ok…" Hermione said, watching him go up the stairs, a look of disappointment on her face. Instead of heading to the kitchen though, where the voices of her parents could be heard talking, she walked to the garage and retrieved a small stool. Bringing it back to the sitting room, she placed it below the hallway overhang and brought down the mistletoe she had placed there earlier. It had hung directly above them the entire time, if he'd ever taken the chance to look up.


	7. Look Sharp Tom

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Look Sharp Tom**

_A/N: Thank you to the wonderful, wonderful people who reviewed! You guys are awesome! To answer a quick question, yes, it is my intention to continue this into and through the events of Deathly Hallows and maybe even a little beyond. This chapter may contain dialogue directly from Half-Blood Prince and is the property of J.K. Rowling, as is most everything else in this story. Thank you for reading, and please, as always, be sure to review (it'll help me get the next chapter out faster). Now sit back and enjoy. _

It was late in the afternoon, a few days after New Years, when Harry and Hermione made their way to the Granger's fireplace. Mrs. Granger was near tears and Mr. Granger didn't look much better, but Hermione's patient air with her parents led Harry to believe that this was a normal going-away occurrence.

"Do be careful," Emma cried, giving her daughter a ferocious hug. Hermione awkwardly patted her mother's back in an effort to comfort her.

"I trust you'll keep an eye on Hermione?" Dan whispered to Harry as they shook hands.

Harry looked Mr. Granger in the eye and said truthfully, "It's usually the other way around sir, but I'll try."

Dan clapped Harry on the shoulder with a fatherly grin and mumbled, "Good man…" before switching places with his wife.

Emma scoffed at Harry's proffered hand and gave him a hug much like the one Hermione had received. Harry was only briefly startled and then found himself hugging back, glad to be so accepted by such a wonderful mother.

Once she had pulled away and gotten a hold of herself, Emma told Harry, "It was so nice meeting you, Harry dear. You're welcome back anytime you like."

Harry thanked her and then Hermione and he scooped up their trunks and respective pet carriers.

Emma, her tears falling freely once more, ran to her daughter and Crookshanks to give them both a kiss on the cheek. Crookshanks batted gently at her head as she pulled away using his paw. She gave him one last affectionate pat and then whispered something to her daughter.

Hermione nodded solemnly and then calling the Headmaster's office, she disappeared in a burst of green flame. Dan and Emma jumped in surprise at the blaze, but quickly regained themselves and were able to call their good-byes to Harry as he too vanished in the fireplace. The last thing he saw before landing painfully on his face was Emma's tearful chocolate-brown eyes and her watery smile.

Collecting himself and his belongings from the floor -including a very disgruntled Hedwig- Harry heard Dumbledore say softly, "I see you did not envision my office as I had previously suggested, perhaps next time…"

Harry spun around to see that Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, an amused look on his wizened old face. Fawkes was staring down imperiously from his perch behind Dumbledore, his eyes fixed unblinking at Hedwig.

Hedwig hooted shyly up at the handsome Phoenix, but Fawkes looked away, seemingly disgusted that a lowly owl should try to converse with him.

Hermione gave Hedwig a sympathetic look before turning to Dumbledore to thank him once more.

"Of course, Miss Granger. It was my pleasure," addressing Harry, Dumbledore said, "Let us have our next lesson tomorrow evening, shall we?"

"Sounds good to me sir."

As Harry and Hermione were passing McGonagall's office, Ron and Ginny stepped out, carrying all of their belongings as well. Arnold the Pigmy Puff and Pigwidgeon, at seeing Crookshanks, began to shuffle uncomfortably in their cages. Crookshanks just sat on his fluffy orange tail and licked his lips.

Ginny gave both Harry and Hermione a welcoming smile, her eyes coming to rest on Harry. But Ron only gave a curt nod before tromping off to the Gryffindor tower, ignoring Hermione completely, Pig's relieved hoots harmonizing with Ron's doleful footsteps as he vanished from view down the corridor.

"Sorry about him," Ginny apologized. "He'll come around eventually, he just needs to get used to the idea of the two of you together."

Harry grimaced. Enough was enough! Looking at Ginny before him, he knew he had to tell her. "Look Ginny, about Hermione and I, we-"

"Broke up over the holidays," Hermione interjected quickly, cutting him off.

"Oh…" was all Ginny had to say. Harry searched her face very thoroughly, for any signs of excitement or relief, and was thrilled to spot a tiny trace of both.

Hermione went on, her voice masked in a cheerful tone, "Yea, Harry thought it was better if we were just friends, and I agreed." Harry tore his eyes away from Ginny and glanced at his friend. She had a kind of sad smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. He was astonished at how talented an actress she had become –she was playing their break up perfectly!

Later, after Ginny had reluctantly run off to find Dean, Harry squeezed Hermione's shoulder and said quietly, "You really are the best Hermione, thank you." She gave him a small grin, then said that she really had to get to bed and ran off to the girl's dorms. Harry's eyes followed her in confusion. What'd he say?

By lunch the next day, news of the famous pairs 'break up' had circulated enough to the point where Harry was once again having to fend off Romilda and her groupies.

He had tried to find Hermione that morning to talk about the apparition lessons with her –there had been a sign posted in the commons- but when he'd asked Lavender, who had apparently been looking for Ron herself, she'd said that Hermione had already gone to breakfast.

He didn't find her in the Great Hall either. It wasn't until Charms that day, when Harry first spotted Hermione.

She was seated beside Neville instead of her normal seat beside Harry. She looked up when he entered, and returned his wave, but hadn't made any other acknowledgement of his existence.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, idly stirring his bubbling amber soup, Harry couldn't help but wonder what he possibly could have done to make Hermione ignore him. He finished his meal and watched impassively as the plate disappeared. He thought of the house elves, probably scrubbing it as he got up from the table, and came to the decision that he would confront her before going to his lesson with the Headmaster that evening.

He found her, about fifteen minutes before eight, sitting by herself, curled up in front of the Gryffindor fireplace with the book, Dueling Tactics for the Advanced Witch or Wizard resting comfortably across her lap. Crookshanks was stretched luxuriously in front of the fire, near the base of the couch, his purring echoing throughout the crowded commons.

Harry took the seat beside her and cleared his throat. She grudgingly marked her place and slowly put the book down to look up at him. "Yes?" she asked dutifully, albeit impatient.

Harry, completely thrown by her strange behavior, began tentatively, "Is something the matter Hermione? I couldn't help but notice you've been avoiding me today…"

"You're not a daft prick, Harry," Hermione said crossly, rolling her eyes. "Surely you realize that it would seem a bit suspicious if, after just breaking up, we were to spend all our time together as usual?"

"Oh. Yea…well, it's not like we're not friends anymore, everyone will think it's just like old times again…a failed experiment on our parts."

"A failed _experiment_!" Hermione hissed, her eyebrows knitting together in anger. "Is that what it was to you?"

"No! I didn't mean it like that! That's just what other people will think."

Hermione wouldn't budge. "What do _you_ think?"

Harry swallowed. "About what?" he asked innocently.

"You know very well what!"

Harry sighed. "I think it was a terrible idea Hermione, probably a first for you."

Her jaw dropped. "WHAT!?"

"Pretending to date me to make Ron jealous? –Not one of your better ideas."

"Oh, you're one to talk!" Hermione scoffed. "You only did it to make Ginny jealous."

"And I feel really bad about that."

"You think I don't regret my actions?"

"I'm not sure what you're thinking…that's why I came over here."

Hermione gave a sigh and leaned her head back. "I think…" she finally said, speaking softly, "That whatever Malfoy is onto, is big… and we need to figure it out quickly. All these… mundane matters- these intricacies of our hormones and whatnot- are getting in that way! They're impeding any progress you could be making towards finally defeating Voldemort, …and that scares me." She turned her head to him, her expression poignant. "I don't want to be one of those girls, Harry –the kind like Lavender and Parvati who spend all their time gossiping about boys and doing their hair- I want to make a difference!" She held up the dueling book she'd been reading. "I want to be right beside you when you face him, and I want everyone to know that they'd have to go through me first before even thinking about hurting you." She swallowed and went on, her voice cracking slightly as she fought her tears, "And here we are, sitting in front of the fire, worried about what others will think and if Ron will still have me…"

Harry, his own eyes a little watery, pulled her to him. They sat there on the couch in front of the crackling fire, clinging to each other, like the desperate hug of two people who know exactly the level of their friendship and the danger of their futures.

It wasn't until they had both gotten a grip on their emotions that the two pulled away.

Harry grinned a little sheepishly and said, "Well, at least _I_ don't have to worry about Ron wanting me -good luck with that." Hermione chuckled and Harry soon joined her, their laughter growing in intensity, both relieved to do so. Harry soon noticed the time and stood up. "I've got to go to my lesson, but don't go anywhere –I'll tell you about it when I get back."

"Thanks."

"Sure. And maybe…maybe I can talk to Dumbledore about us getting more lessons. From the Order perhaps."

"Mrs. Weasley would hate the idea."

"Yea, but as much as I love her, and I'm sure you do as well, it's not really up to her, is it?"

The lamps in Dumbledore's office were lit, the portraits of previous headmasters were snoring gently in their frames, and the Pensieve was ready upon the desk once more. Dumbledore's hands lay on either side of it, the right one as blackened and burnt-looking as ever. It did not seem to have healed at all and Harry wondered, for perhaps the hundredth time, what had caused such a distinctive injury, but did not ask; Dumbledore had said the truth would be revealed in due time. In the mean while, Harry was more preoccupied by his discussion with Hermione, but before he could say anything about furthering his lessons, Dumbledore spoke.

"Hello Harry. I felt it imprudent to discuss your break in front of Miss Granger, but how did you find it? I hear you met the Minister of Magic…"

"Yes," said Harry. "He's not particularly happy with me. But besides his impromptu visit, I really liked Hermione's parents."

"I'm pleased to hear that. Minerva spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Granger before Hermione ever came to Hogwarts and she said they were lovely people. In regards to the Minister, no," sighed Dumbledore, "He is not very happy with me either. Within hours of Scrimgeour's appointment we met and he demanded that I arrange a meeting with you."

"So that's why you argued!" Harry blurted out. "It was in the _Daily Prophet_."

"The _Prophet_ is bound to report the truth occasionally. We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on."

Harry grinned. "So they still don't know where you go?" he asked, hoping for more information on this intriguing subject, but Dumbledore merely smiled over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

"No, they don't, and the time is not quite right for you to know either. Now, I suggest we press on, unless there's anything else-?"

"There is, actually, sir," said Harry. "I trust Lupin told you what Hermione and I overheard about Malfoy and Snape?"

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry, and yes he has. I thank you for reporting it to the Order, but I suggest that you put it out of your mind. The situation is being monitored and I know perfectly well the progress young Draco is making."

Harry was slightly ruffled that Dumbledore was keeping him out of the loop, especially if potential Death Eaters were running around the school devising plans for Voldemort, but he decided to drop it for now and move on. "Alright Professor, but I hope you'll tell me if there's anything I can do to help. Speaking of which," Harry briskly transitioned, "These lessons are wonderful, and I'm really enjoying getting to spend the extra time with you sir…"

"There's no need for flattery Harry, I'm too old to make much of it."

"Err…yea, well…Hermione and I were just wondering if there was anyway the two of us, maybe Ron eventually, could have some extra lessons?"

"What sort of lessons did you have in mind?" Dumbledore asked, his twinkling eyes glowing with amusement.

"We felt it would be very useful if we could have some private lessons, maybe from some of the Order who are already stationed here, in things such as Occulemency, Legilimency, Dueling, Wards, and stuff of that nature."

"I concur that it would indeed be useful, however, I'm not sure when you or your friends would find the time. As I understand it, you're the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Harry. And isn't it the same Miss Granger who is always discussing the merits of intense dedication to one's studies?" Dumbledore and Harry shared a grin -Hermione's antics were legendary. "Even if I were to procure for your use, Auror Tonks, or perhaps even Remus, who also mentioned to me at the last Order meeting the troubles he was facing with the other Werewolves, when would you three be able to take the extra lessons?"

"For something this important, we should be able to _make_ the time, Professor."

Dumbledore considered him for a moment, and seemed to come to a decision. "Very well Harry. I'll speak to Nymphadora and Remus. Perhaps the Room of Requirement will be suitable?"

"Isn't it always?"

"It tries."

"Thanks you sir, I'd really appreciate it."

"Very good, now, I _really_ must insist we move on. I have two more memories to show you this evening, both obtained with enormous difficulty, and the second of them is, I think, the most important I have collected."

The first memory they visited took them back to the Gaunts' house, which was now even more indescribably filthy than anywhere Harry had ever seen. Tom Riddle had attacked his uncle and stolen the ring.

That memory was of the same day Tom Riddle Senior and his mother and father had been found dead in the drawing room of the big house, Riddle Manor. In the magical community, Tom's uncle, Morfin, was charged with the murders and had gladly admitted to them, even though Harry and Dumbledore had just viewed the proof of his innocence.

The second memory produced a much younger version of Horace Slughorn, surrounded by a group of boys. Harry was so used to Slughorn bald that he found the sight of him with thick, shiny, straw-colored hair quite disconcerting; it looked as though he had had his head thatched, though there was already a shiny Galleon-sized bald patch on his crown.

Tom Riddle, easily recognizable as the most handsome of the half dozen boys sitting around Slughorn had dawdled deliberately, wanting to be last in the room with Slughorn.

"_Look Sharp, Tom_," said Slughorn, turning around and finding him still present. "_You don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect…_"

"_Sir, I wanted to ask you something_."

"_Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…_"

"_Sir, I wondered what you know about…about Horcruxes_?"

And then a dense fog distorted the memory and Slughorn's superimposed voice could be heard denouncing Riddle and horcruxes. Seconds later, Harry once again found himself in Dumbledore's office.

"That's all there is?" said Harry blankly.

"As you might have noticed," said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk, "that memory has been tampered with."

"The dense fog…"

"Correct! Professor Slughorn has meddled with his own recollections."

"To hide whatever he really told Riddle about…err…horrors?"

"_Horcruxes_. Yes, it would appear so… Thus, for the first time, I am giving you homework." Harry's face soured, but Dumbledore continued, "Do this Harry, for the same reason I will allow you extra lessons, -it will help us all defeat Tom." Harry nodded solemnly. "It will be your job to persuade Professor Slughorn to divulge the real memory, which will undoubtedly be our most crucial piece of information of all."

"You've already tried Legilimency and Veritaserum? Why should I have any better luck than you?"

"Professor Slughorn is an extremely capable Wizard. No doubt, he would be expecting both. No, I think it would be foolish to attempt to wrest the truth from Professor Slughorn by force, and might do much more harm than good; I do not wish him to leave Hogwarts. However, he has his weaknesses like the rest of us, and I believe that you are the one person who might be able to penetrate his defenses. It is most important, we will only know when we have seen the real thing. So, good luck…and good night."

A little taken aback by the abrupt dismissal, Harry got to his feet quickly. "Good night, sir."

As he closed the study door behind him, he distinctly heard Phineas Nigellus say, "I can't see why the boy should be able to do it better than you, Dumbledore."

"I wouldn't expect you to, Phineas," replied Dumbledore, and Fawkes gave another low, musical cry.

As Harry traversed the familiar route back to the Gryffindor tower, he thought back on all he'd seen in the Pensieve.

Tom Riddle had been a killer at Harry's age. Walking down the darkened corridor, Harry wondered, 'had he ever been otherwise, or had Voldemort been born evil?'

So consumed by his thoughts, -on whether or not Tom Riddle had been destined to become a great evil, or had simply just fallen into the habit, -Harry didn't even notice when Peeves tried to spill ink on him. It dripped all into his hair and robes, but Harry didn't say anything. If he had been paying attention, he probably would have laughed at the look of exasperation he had left the stunned poltergeist with by his indifference.

Upon entering the Gryffindor Commons, he found Hermione, still curled up in front of the fire exactly as he had left her, though nearly a hundred pages further had been read in her book.

She heard him approach and looked up. All the reading had left her with the beginnings of dark circles beneath her eyes and her hair seemed to be crackling at the same intensity as the fire before them. "What did he say?" she asked.

"He's going to talk to Lupin and Tonks about it, but I have to do something first."

"What's that?"

"I have to get Slughorn to give me a memory."

"I take it this has something to do with when Slughorn taught Tom Riddle?" Hermione said, yawning as she did so.

"Brilliant as always… Hey, you're not tempted to turn into an evil psychopathic Dark Lord any time soon, are you? You and Riddle were both pretty smart…" Harry drifted off stoically, not breaking into laughter until Hermione pelted him with her rather hefty book.


	8. The Moaning Snake Elopement

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**The Moaning Snake Elopement**

_A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it. I'm sorry this took so long to come out, and I also apologize for this being so short. Between my writer's block and moving into my dorm, life has been kind of crazy. Anyway, on with the story, please be sure to review. Hope you enjoy… By the way, all is still the property of J.K. Rowling. _

"Harry! Harry!" an annoyingly high-pitched squeal called over and over again, piercing the stillness of the Gryffindor Commons. Many of the students who had formerly been studying looked up briefly to find the source of the rather rude disturbance. Almost all of them went back to their tasks once they had pin pointed the problem, the particular individual making it a common occurrence that most found easy enough to ignore.

For the subject of the calls, however, this was not so easy a task to ignore. With a sigh, Harry turned away from Hermione, whom he'd been discussing with the nature of what exactly they wanted to focus on in their extra lessons, and said to Romilda Vane- the obvious perpetrator- Hermione smirking at Harry's pained expression behind his back, "Yes?"

"Oh! There you are Harry," Romilda cooed, disregarding Hermione's presence completely. She eagerly pulled out a thin rectangular box wrapped in gold paper from behind her back and shoved it into his hands before he could object. "I just wanted to give you something. You didn't take the cauldron cakes I offered last time," she smiled insanely wide and moved a little closer to Harry, making sure her shiny, black hair fell over her shoulder just the right way as she leaned down to whisper, "But just remember Harry, you don't _always_ have to be so polite. You could…act on your feelings every now and then…" she trailed off suggestively, and Harry didn't have to strain his mind to see where she was going with this.

Swallowing the disgust as well as shooting Hermione a glare when he heard a very un-lady like snort from behind him, he said, "Err…thanks." Her eyes lit up at what he could only assume she saw as an invitation. Before she could pounce on him however, Harry quickly continued, "I've really got to keep studying now though, so if you could just leave Hermione and I to it, I'd appr…"

"But you two broke up!" Romilda whined shrilly, her heavily lidded eyes flying wide in panic.

Before Harry could say anything- not that he was sure what he could in this situation- Hermione spoke up, saving him, "But we're still friends with each other." Hermione's voice was steely, her eyes challenging.

Harry found himself fearing for Romilda against his will- no one deserved to be at odds with Hermione when she had that look on her face. Hermione went on, leaning back comfortably in her armchair and slowly stroking Crookshanks fur. "And as Harry's friend," she looked up from her kneazle and glared coolly at the intruding witch, "I feel it my duty to tell you that Harry would rather marry the giant octopus and honeymoon with the Murpeople than spend one more minute trying to be 'polite' to you. Now go. You're not doing anyone any good, and if I find, as I'm sure I will, that you put a love potion in whatever's in that box, I will personally inform McGonagall, as well as the whole school, what you were trying to do."

Romilda opened her mouth, then closed it. She repeated this process several more times, accomplishing a rather good impersonation of a fish, before stomping angrily away in a huff. Hermione watched her go and then turned to Harry, "Well?"

Harry was confused. Did she want praise? He patted her on the back and said, "I thought it went without saying that you were bloody brilliant- as usual."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not_ that_. Give me the box." He wordlessly handed it to her, mentally smacking himself in the head. She snatched it from him quickly and muttered, "honestly," before tearing away the gold paper- rather forcefully- and gazing inside. A soft, 'oh my' escaped her lips. Harry leaned over to see what had Hermione so entranced- a rare deed in itself- and a smile slowly spread across his face- sugar quills!

"Uh, maybe it was sincere?" Hermione asked absently as she stared down with hunger at her favorite Honeydukes product.

"Yea," Harry said, taking the box away from her protesting hands, "And maybe Voldemort will elope with Moaning Myrtle." That snapped Hermione out of it.

"What?"

"I thought that might get your attention." Hermione swatted at him playfully, but he caught her hand, and just held it.

Harry hadn't meant to hold it so long, but it just felt so… 'right,' wasn't exactly the right word, but it was close. With her warm, smaller hand in his, he felt like he was some place familiar. Home? Not Hogwarts though, and not the Burrow, nor the Granger's house, and certainly not the Dursely's. Some place entirely new, yet completely familiar. Retching his gaze away from their joined hands, he saw that Hermione too was affected, though her face was downcast, her ears were turning a lovely shade of Weasley red.

Harry slowly pulled his hand away from hers, the heated skin of his palm seeming to freeze as it left her contact. "See you tomorrow Her-mione. Remember Dumbledore said to be at the Room of Requirement at eight." Harry said, -oddly enough, in a quiet, steady voice, not at all reflecting the way his heart had suddenly began to pound furiously.

Hermione nodded, and he was amazed at how different she looked, close up. Not really thinking about what he was doing, he leaned over and did something he'd never done to anyone, not even Cho, -He kissed her cheek. Just a brush, somewhat reminiscent of the peck she had bestowed upon him way back at the end of fourth year.

Feeling all too self-conscious suddenly, Harry made a hurried retreat up to the boy's dormitory, his heart now running so rampant, he felt that surely the Weird Sisters must have been renting it out.

Upon entering the sixth year boy's room, he bypassed the ever-present glare of Ron and the somewhat welcoming looks on Neville, Seamus and Dean's faces in order to go straight to his four poster and draw the crimson hangings around himself. He changed quickly into his sleeping clothes and then, burrowing under the fluffy red and gold comforter, he rummaged around until he located what he'd been aching to look at- his Phoenix Snow globe.

The last image he saw before drifting off to sleep that night was the beaming face of little Hermione Granger as she gazed at little Harry. They were giggling together as they made snow angels.

Harry, unsure of what was going on and oblivious to the strange new feelings he was experiencing, failed to notice the looks of mingled jealousy and despair tiny Ron and Ginny gave as they crouched hidden behind the strangely tranquil Whomping Willow and enviously watched the happy pair play in the blindingly white snow.

"Harry?" a familiar voice asked, breaking Harry out of his restful sleep.

Wait?

What would _that_ voice be doing talking to him?

"Ron?" he opened his eyes, and sure enough, a grinning Ronald Weasley was there, hovering goofily above him, sucking on the end of a sugar quill- a sugar quill Romilda Vane had given him, Harry. Uh oh… "What are you doing with that?! It's poisoned!"

Ron spat it out and flung the quill to the floor like it had burned him. He waited a second, feeling his face and hair for any alteration before laughing, "Good one, mate!"

Now Harry was really thrown. "I wasn't kidding, Ron. Romilda probably spiked those with a love potion. And since when were we back to being 'mates' again?"

Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "Just didn't feel up to hating you anymore. Takes too much energy frankly, especially when I woke up all happy this morning. Besides, I had something really important to ask you. Will you…I mean, err…would you consider…" he trailed off, his eyes glowing feverishly and his face blushing.

Harry was becoming increasingly apprehensive; -there was a reason love spells were forbidden. "Yes?" he asked nervously.

Ron grabbed Harry's hand. "Will you be my Best Man?"

Harry nearly gagged. A kind of choked whimper emerged from the back of his constricted throat before he could stutter, "Best…Man?"

Ron enthusiastically shook his head in the affirmative.

Shaking his head to make sure he was awake, and unfortunately finding that he was, Harry asked in a somewhat steadier voice, "And to whom are we marrying?"

"The most beautiful, intelligent, stunning woman in all of existence," Ron said dreamily, "Romilda Vane!"

Closing his eyes, Harry took a deep, calming breath before saying, "And what will Lavender think about this?"

Ron looked somewhat confused.

"Oh, you know," Harry said sarcastically, "the girl you've been fusing tongues with lately?"

Ron blinked. "Oh…her. I've been thinking of ways to let her down easy for a while now. Even without finding the love of my life, I knew Lavender and I weren't going to work. Clingy, that one."

"Uh…yea."

"Yea," Ron said, going slack-eyed again. "Not at all like Romilda." He said her name tenderly, lovingly.

Harry resisted the urge to heave. Then a very funny thought popped into his mind and he sighed with relief. "Thank Merlin Hermione didn't have one of those sugar quills…"

Something in Ron's dreamy blissfulness broke for a second. "Hermione? I…wanted to tell her…" Something clinched, almost painfully, in Harry's stomach. This was all _so_ wrong, on so many levels.

But Ron's goofy lovesick look returned and he said brightly, "Hermione would make a brilliant Bridesmaid…I'll have to ask 'Ro' if she can be the Maid of Honor. I know you two broke up and all- Ginny told me- but in the end, we're all still friends, right?"

Harry felt his heart constrict, and a deep affection, a love he knew to be reserved solely for your family, the people in your life you love no matter what they may look like, do or say, welled up inside of him like a compressed sun rising in the morning. All the months of ignoring and hatred melted away like a bad dream as Harry leaned over and hugged his redheaded best friend. "Yea…we are," he said finally, more than a little choked up. Clearing his throat, Harry continued, "And that's why I'm taking you to Slughorn right now."


	9. Return of the Werewolf

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Return of the Werewolf**

_A/N: Ok, I realize this one isn't much longer than the previous chapter, but with the simultaneous updates, I hope you can forgive me. I wanted to get this up before classes started. Thank you to all my reviewers, I can't tell you how much your feedback motivates me. As always, all is the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling. Please read and review. Enjoy_

"But Professor! You have to help him!" Harry frantically yelled at Slughorn as the rotund Potions Professor attempted to evade his 'favorite' student.

Slughorn's beady little eyes flicked briefly back to Ron, who Harry was keeping a firm grip on, and then back to Harry before he said resignedly, "So you mean…this isn't about that…that, -_thing_- you've been hounding me about then? Because, as I've told you, you'll not be extracting any memory. Especially one that _certainly_ never existed."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. You'd think that the fact that Ron was beginning to foam at the mouth in his need to be near Romilda would be clue enough for Slughorn to help, but no. "Yes Professor, this is completely unrelated." Ron began to convulse as whimpers of 'Romilda…Romilda' reeked out of his mouth at perfectly spaced intervals. "He's getting worse! You've got to do something Professor!" Harry shouted as he tried to hold Ron down.

Slughorn seemed to finally come to his senses. He gave a little start as if just realizing that this was no joke and quickly ran to the pantry at the front of the Potions classroom. He came back with a bezoar, which he promptly shoved down Ron's throat.

Ron gagged a little and Harry gave him some space. He was mentally kicking himself for not thinking of the bezoar as Ron's coughs began to die down.

"You alright Ron?"

Panting slightly, his face a peculiar shade of purple, Ron slowly replied, "I…I think I'll be ok." He glanced around and noticed Slughorn. "What am I doing here? Wait, _what _happened?"

"You sort of ate a poisoned sugar quill that was spiked with a love potion."

"Romilda Vane?" Ron asked, his face pure dread.

Harry slowly nodded. "Afraid so. Do you remember at all?"

"It's fuzzy. Like I dreamed it all." Ron looked away from Harry and Slughorn. "Was the part where we're friends again real?"

"Yea…"

Slughorn cleared his pudgy throat pointedly. "I'm glad you're feeling better Reg, but if you and Mr. Potter would be so kind as to leave now, I have very important parchments to grade."

Harry, aware that these parchments were entirely fabricated and that Slughorn couldn't figure out Ron's name if his life depended on it, decided to give his little 'homework' assignment one more shot. "Professor, you're a very dedicated teacher…and obviously you care a lot about your students. I mean, look at what you just did for Ron- he could have died." Ron paled, but determined, Harry went on, "By keeping that memory, you're endangering everyone." He didn't know this for sure, but he was betting that Slughorn didn't either. "We need it. I know it might be incriminating, but whatever you said to Tom Riddle or did for him doesn't matter. By giving it to me, you'd be redeeming yourself…so please, Sir, I'm begging you here."

Slughorn glanced away, his face reddening. Harry thought he might start screaming at him, but instead, almost against his will, Slughorn withdrew his wand and fixing his face up in concentration, extracted the silvery wisp of the fleeting memory. He carefully placed it in a Potion's test tube and wordlessly handed it to Harry.

"Thank you sir," Harry said as he prepared to usher Ron and himself out of the classroom.

Almost out the door, Slughorn called out, "I didn't do this for Dumbledore, Harry."

Harry looked back at the worried face of Slughorn and said just loud enough so the man could hear him, "I know."

"Harry? What are you doing with _him_?" Hermione asked scandalized as he and Ron stepped into the Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady had been much more pleasant about the two friends reuniting. She had muttered, "Oh! Together again? I'm so pleased. Took you two long enough…" as they had stepped through the passage.

"Hermione, just…can't you…" Harry began, but stopped as Ron gave him a look that said, 'it's alright, I'm going in. Wish me luck.' It's funny how easy it was to decipher Ron's expressions. Harry could read his face easier than any book; it was good to be speaking to each other again.

Ron stepped timidly up to Hermione, who crossed her arms and put forth her best glare. Harry was reminded of his first challenge in the Twiwizard Tournament. Hopefully, Ron wouldn't get burned.

"Hermione, I…uh…I'm sorry for the way I behaved."

"Good." Apparently Hermione wasn't at all like the Hornback, -she was _frigid_.

Harry decided that now was the moment for intervention. "Hermione, you're not being at all fair. You've behaved just as poorly as Ron has. Which, when you think about it, is kind of funny…" He gave a weak laugh to emphasize the funniness, but now, both Ron and Hermione were looking at him like he'd lost it.

"Forgive me for not breaking into hysterics, _Harry_," Hermione sneered, now glaring at him as well. Turning the brunt of her fury back to Ron, Hermione said, "I'm not at all sorry for the way I behaved, _Ronald_, but I'm willing to put it aside." Ron perked up, but she continued, "Providing that your garish displays of affection are done in private and you attempt to think using your brain, _a novel concept_, I'm sure."

Ron just stood there, staring at her for a second, blinking. All of the sudden, he threw his arms around her and pulled her tightly into his embrace. "Thank you…thank you…thank you…" he muttered into her bushy hair.

Hermione quickly retched herself away. "We're not on any type of hugging basis, _Ronald_. I just said I would _attempt_ to put up with you- I never said we'd be bosom buddies again all of the sudden."

This did nothing to deter Ron. If anything, his smile grew wider. "Hermione! I'm going to break up with Lavender!"

Harry would have liked to say that this statement affected Hermione in no way at all, but that wasn't the case. She said, a lovely flush creeping up her neck, "Oh, and why- why would I care about _that_?"

"Because…well…" Ron was faltering.

"Because Ron's fancied you since forever Hermione. Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you," Harry said, his voice a little colder than he would have liked, but then again, he didn't particularly like the situation.

Now both Ron and Hermione were in full-fledged blushing mode. Ron recovered first and said softly, looking right into Hermione's bright, chocolate brown eyes- eyes that Harry noticed were really very beautiful when the firelight was reflecting in them like it was at the moment- "I have, Hermione. I just dated Lavender to see if I could get a reaction from you." Liar, Harry thought. Ron did it just to see how it felt to snog and because Ginny had been egging him on. "I just about went crazy when you and Harry, err…well, you know."

Harry wasn't sure if he should leave them alone. He desperately wanted to see how this would play out, but he was worried it might seem a little strange if he just lingered there, breaking into their private moment and all. He decided to stay. He'd only leave if Hermione told him to…

"About Harry and I," Hermione said, glancing uneasily between Harry and Ron, "We never…"

"Never meant to hurt you," Harry interjected quickly. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to defend their quasi relationship now, but he knew he didn't want Hermione to tell Ron that it had all been a sham. Hermione looked shocked at him. He ignored her and looked directly at Ron as he went on, "We just thought it'd be a good chance to see how we felt about each other- what with you dating someone else and all- speaking of which," Harry had to admit, this was a little evil, but he wanted to say it anyway, "Doesn't Lavender think the two of you are still together?"

Ron was understandably a little put off by that reminder. His expression told Harry, 'why'd you have to go and bring that up mate?' but all he said was, "Yea, like I said earlier, _Harry_," mentally, his eyes were saying, 'cut it out', "I'm going to break up with her." Ron looked from Harry to Hermione, and back again before saying, "By the way, what made the two of you break up?" Harry could tell he was apprehensive about the answer. As well he should be, Harry thought darkly.

It was Hermione who answered though, addressing Ron, and avoiding eye contact with Harry, "Harry thought we were better as friends, …and I agreed." This was the same line she had fed to Ginny. Harry wasn't sure if he entirely concurred with her assessment. Perhaps the truth was actually the other way around?

But Ron was looking to Harry for confirmation, so Harry dutifully nodded. Ron looked really relieved and said awkwardly, making a somewhat pathetic attempt to move on, "So…what's the game plan? I'm sure the two of you have been making some progress against, uh…you know who."

Harry and Hermione, although not fooled by the attempt to change topics, gladly seized on the opportunity. They spent the rest of the day, in between classes and during lunch and dinner, filling him in.

"So you both reckon it'll be Tonks, right?" Ron asked as the three of them headed up to the seventh floor and the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. The mood between the three was tense, but they were trying to work through the awkwardness of being together once more. Some a little better than others, Harry thought sourly.

Hermione had even been _laughing_ at something Ron had been saying- though Harry wasn't paying too much attention to what Ron had said. He only saw the way Hermione's whole face brightened and her bushy brown hair seemed to charge itself as she laughed. It was actually something he liked about her. Her poofy, wild hair made Hermione distinct from other girls. Girls like Romilda who had shiny, straight, perfect hair. It was boring. At least Hermione's hair was genuine, and it was unique. For that, Harry thought it was beautiful.

_Wait_. Ugh…he was doing it again. What in Merlin was going on?

He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Yea, that's what Dumbledore had hinted at last time I spoke to him."

Ron nodded and they journeyed the rest of the way chatting about frivolous things, Hermione and Ron that is.

As they rounded the corner, they were meant with, not the Metamorphamagus, as they had expected, but the very worn, and very familiar face of Remus J. Lupin. His tattered robes hung off his emaciated flesh in a fashion that made all three Gryffindors wince.

His sunken eyes slowly glanced up as he heard the three approach, and his heavily lined mouth quirked up into a grimace that could almost be described as a smile before he greeted, his voice sounding scratchy and unused, "Hello Harry, Hermione…Ron?"

Ron stood abashedly before his former teacher, awaiting his judgment. He needn't have worried. This was Lupin after all.

"Good to see you again Ron. How are your talented brothers doing? I know their joke shop is doing rather well."

"Ah-huh…it is. Fred and George are doing brilliant," Ron said, trying not to stare at the cuts and bruises discernable on Lupin's arms and face.

"Remus," Harry said, still feeling rather odd calling his former Professor by his first name, "How are you? Did something happen with the Werewolves?"

"I'm afraid that the Werewolves won't be helping the Order anytime soon. They finally tired of my friendly advances to desist their alliance with Voldemort," Ron grimaced, "Although it's not as though I can't see their point of view- the Ministry is highly discriminating against magical creatures, and Werewolves in particular."

"The Ministry's domestic policy on Magical Creatures is deplorable," Hermione said adamantly. "With foreign Magical Creatures, such as Veela, Elves and even some charming Vampires, they're completely lenient. It's so bigoted."

"Right you are, Hermione. But it's unfortunately unavoidable. If only a decent Minister could get elected. I was trying to talk Kingsley into it last election, but he would have none of it." Lupin limped up to Hermione and enfolded her in a warm hug, much to Harry and Ron's chagrin. "But it's very good to see you again my dear," he said pulling away from a flush-faced Hermione. "I'm not sure I would have survived this past month if it weren't for your Wolfsbane Potion. It proved indispensable."

"I'm just glad I could help you…Remus," Hermione said shyly.

Ron coughed. The two quit staring at each other, finally. It was down right unnerving in Harry's opinion.

"So, you're going to be our tutor?" Harry asked, gesturing to where the Room of Requirement door usually appeared.

Lupin gave a real smile this time. "Yes, just like old times I dare say. Should be quite entertaining- Dumbledore's only instructions were that I teach you three anything you wanted to learn- of course, he's trusting my judgment on what is appropriate, but that leaves us with a rather large field of magic to explore."

Harry glanced at Hermione, and sure enough, her eyes were bright with excitement. Not waiting another moment to get started learning, anything she desired, she eagerly broke away from the men and paced back and forth, three times, in front of Barnabas and the trolls.

Not surprisingly, the customary door appeared. "Shall we?" Hermione asked breathlessly.


	10. Dumbledore's Lieutenants

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Dumbledore's Lieutenants **

_A/N: Wow! I'm not sure how to apologize enough! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I could make excuses because of college and horseshows and whatnot, but the truth is, I'm losing a bit of my inspiration for this story. But an update I have promised, so that's what you'll get. Thank you so much to my readers and especially those of you who review. I hope this chapter is on par, but I feel I've gotten a bit rusty with it, so be sure to review and keep me in line. Cheers! _

The first thing Harry noticed as he stepped into the Room of Requirement was the eerily faceless practice dummies hanging like piñatas from the ceiling. The second thing Harry noticed was a mane of bushy brown hair as it streaked to the nearby wall where dozens of Dark Art Defense books lay strewn about on sturdy black shelves.

Ron stepped up beside Harry with a smirk on his freckled face. "You know, I used to think it was kind of annoying the way she'd always go and do that. That, and a little mental. Now, it's…well, it's kind of cute."

Although he personally had to agree, Harry instead said, "Ron, maybe you should cool it for a while. I mean you _still_ haven't broken up with Lavender, and Hermione and I…" Ron's eyebrows flew up and his ears reddened as though he'd just eaten an extremely hot pepper. But Harry ignored this and continued, "Are still rather confused about how we feel, so maybe you should just back off a little?"

Ron looked abashed, but before he could reply, Lupin came up to them with a grin and announced, "Just like my old class! –Harry and Ron talking and Hermione no where to be seen until the actual work begins."

Hearing her name mentioned, Hermione gracefully picked herself up from the squishy chair she'd been sitting in as she flipped through '_What They Don't Tell You About Defense' _and carefully rested the book back on the shelf where she'd found it before coming over to them. "I always liked that book. So, what are we doing first Remus?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Let's start with a little review." Hermione looked crestfallen, but Lupin continued, "Then we can move on to something I'm sure all three of you should find interesting."

Lupin had them split into pairs- Harry and Hermione who were about the same level and then Ron who still had a few problems to work out was partnered with Remus himself.

They went through a series of warm up drills that included disarming spells and alternating blocking spells. Harry and Hermione easily parried their spells and shields back and forth. And after several minutes, Ron too had gotten into the rhythm and his timing was much improved.

"Alright! Very good! I see none of you have forgotten any of the basics." Lupin gave Harry a small smile. "Not that I expected you to, of course."

Lupin walked over to a dark chest hidden in the corner. As Harry took a closer look, he noticed that it was starting to shake.

"I don't need to tell you what it is, just let Harry at it first so we can work on our Patronus a bit." And just like that, Lupin released the Bogart.

Like a billowing cloud of putrid, dark smoke, the shapeless Bogart seamlessly transformed into the cloaked Dementor as it arose and then launched itself directly at Harry.

It was obviously a fairly experienced Bogart, because already, Harry could feel the happiness leaking out of him faster than he could concentrate on one of the seeping memories to combat the foul creature with.

The Bogart/Dementor grasped out with one of its rotted arms toward Harry, trying to instill even more panic in him and the terrible shriek of Lily began to play out in his mind like a broken record, "_HARRY!! NOT HARRY!! TAKE ME INSTEAD_!"

Knowing he was sinking fast, Harry desperately searched his fogging mind for some happy memory. But what had been good in his life? It was so hard to remember all of the sudden…

There _was_ something…uh, school, yes! Hogwarts…and in Hogwarts, he had friends, his only friends. But who were they again?

Red and brown… What did that mean?

Now frantic, Harry realized that he was seeing the Weasley red hair of Ron and the bushy brown hair of Hermione.

Hermione?

Hadn't they kissed? That had been nice, really nice.

Latching onto the kiss Hermione and he had shared in the Gryffindor Common Room; Harry raised his wand and shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The brilliant silver stag leapt out of Harry's wand tip and charged down the Bogart/Dementor. The Bogart/Dementor, in fear, comically picked up its billowing black cloak like a lady might her dress and fled as the stag began to pursue it around the room.

Almost immediately, Harry's head cleared and he was able to see that his stag had changed since the last time he'd called it.

It was still silvery and antlered, but somehow, it seemed more alive than ever. It was almost opaque in its solidness, and its silver coat shown with a particularly acute sheen. It was sparkling.

But more than that, his stag actually _enjoyed_ chasing around the Bogart/Dementor. It nimbly leaped through the air with its antlers low as it toyed with the poor, frightened Bogart.

Everyone was silent for a moment before Remus finally said, "Well, this is interesting…perhaps you should name him Harry?" Although Remus said it lightly, Harry could tell he was as perplexed as the rest of them.

Hermione gently touched Harry's elbow and whispered, astonished, "I think I once read about something like this." Harry's eyes followed his prancing stag, but inside, his heart was throbbing at the light hand she had laid on his arm. Even through the fabric, it was making his skin sear. What the hell was wrong with him? "Apparently, when a Patronus has enough magical power and an incredibly tangible memory backing it, it's possible for it to almost sustain itself. At this self-sustaining level, it develops individual traits and personality."

Harry watched as his stag playfully butted the Bogart/Dementor in the rear with its antlers. It certainly had never acted this way before…

Ron stepped up to Harry's other side and said, "Just don't name it Bambi, mate."

"It already has a name, Ron," Harry whispered. He allowed a tiny smile to grace his lips before he shouted, "Prongs, leave the nice Bogart alone so Hermione and Ron can have a shot at it!"

Obediently, Prongs glided away from the trembling Bogart and pranced over to the trio, his antlered head held high.

Instead of stopping in front of Harry however, he slid to a collected stop in front of Hermione and carefully bowed his majestic head down to her outstretched hand. Hermione tentatively reached out and stroked his wide forehead. Her eyes shot up in surprise.

"He feels almost like Harry's invisibility cloak!"

Curious, Harry and Ron both reached out and began petting Prongs' shoulder and neck. It was true! The silvery stag was nearly corporeal! His coat felt like woven water under Harry's fingertips.

Ignoring the pale moon the Bogart now resembled, Remus came over to Prongs as well and said in surprise once he'd felt the stag's velvety muzzle, "This is extraordinary! I've never seen anything like it!" Rounding on Harry, he asked, "What memory did you happen to use?"

Harry swallowed. Yea, no way was he telling what memory he'd really used. Quickly scrambling for a substitute memory, he slowly stuttered, "Uh, the one… The one where I… Um…hung out with Ginny!"

He had no idea why he'd said that, and immediately the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces told him they couldn't believe he'd said it either.

Ron, his face growing redder by the second, said tightly, "And what were you doing, in this memory, with _my sister_!?"

Oh Merlin! Couldn't he ever get things right with his friends?

Harry took a few deep, calming breaths before he began, "We were just hanging around together at the pitch after a practice one night and decided that we'd play a little one on one. We talked and played each other and laughed, and well, we had a really nice time." Technically, Harry wasn't lying, all of that had happened; it just hadn't been the memory he'd used.

Before Ron could explode at him again, Lupin, in his quiet commanding voice, said, "Very good Harry, very good." But Remus was giving him a strange look that said he knew better. "Now, if you could un-cast your Patronus and go re-dement the Bogart, I'd be much obliged."

"You heard him Prongs. See you later," Harry said and then gave the stag an affectionate pat on the forehead. Prongs gave a curt bow to his master and then faded away. It took a moment for everyone's eyes to readjust to the darkness.

Hermione, as could be expected, had had no problem whatsoever with her otter Patronus. Although Harry had noted the slightly disappointed look in her chocolate eyes when she saw that her otter wasn't nearly as solid or dazzling as Prongs had been.

Ron, however, had been an entirely different story. His Jack Russell Terrier had at first been sputtering between form and wisps of white smoke before it finally latched onto its canine characteristics. It took a full half hour for Ron's terrier, which he named, 'Cannon,' after his favorite Quidditch team, to successfully herd the Bogart/Dementor back into its black chest.

"What now Remus?" Hermione asked, her lips pursed in boredom. Harry was becoming a little bored too with all this review- and Ron taking forever…

A secretive smile on his weathered face, Remus handed each of them a thick, aged pamphlet book.

It read, '_So, You Want to Become an Animagus_?'

Hermione re-acted as though she'd been burned by the pamphlet and nearly dropped it before sputtering, "But Pro- Remus! This is illegal! We'renotallowedto learnthisuntilwe'reallofageandthenwe'dhavetogothroughtheMinistrybi-lawsandtheirregistrationdepartmentandthatwouldn'tdousanygoodbecausethentheDeathEaterswouldrecognizeusinourAnimagusforms!" She had said this all very fast and gave Lupin her best-scandalized expression.

"Your forgetting one thing Hermione," Remus said.

He glanced at the smirking Harry who nodded to him. Harry then turned to Hermione and with a shrug said simply, "He is a Marauder."

Hermione pouted, "But that doesn't make it right…"

Ron smiled and ignored her sulking. "Count me in! This is going to be wicked!"

"Me too," Harry added. He looked pleadingly at Hermione, "_Come on, Hermione_, since when have you been afraid to break the rules?"

"The Ministry is looking for any excuse they can to blackmail you Harry. You know Scimgeour wouldn't hesitate to bring you in to his camp if he found out about this."

It was Remus who answered her. "All very true, Hermione. But the benefits the three of you will have by becoming animagi far outweigh the risks. And besides, I'm not likely to let you get caught, am I?"

Hermione slowly nodded in the negative.

"Don't worry my dear girl, I have experience with this. Sirius, James and I all learned everything there is to know about becoming animagi and we even taught Peter, a feat within itself. And the three of them all successfully transformed countless times without ever being caught."

Hermione bit her lip in nervousness, an action that didn't escape either of the teenage boys, and then slowly said, "Alright, I'm in."

"Excellent!" Remus beamed. "I want the lot of you to _carefully,_" he gave Ron a meaningful look, "Read these pamphlets and then we'll begin with the preliminary stage."

The next half hour found the trio diligently pouring over their literature. Remus was buried in the Defense book that had earlier captured Hermione's attention ("Ah yes! A wonderful read! Tells you all you need to know about the Ministry's backward ideology.")

Inside the worn pamphlet, Harry found detailed instructions outlining more than Harry had ever wanted to know about the magic of becoming an animal. The first paragraph read,

_The noble and most ancient majick of transforming into non-wizard form began with the venerable Count Vladimir, commonly referred to as Vlad the Impaler in historical texts and popularly known in later times as Dracula. He developed a three-stage strategy for transformation called the Conversion Process…._

Harry skipped down the to where the yellowed parchment read, 'Stage 1.'

_Vladimir, falsely recognized to be the world's most notorious Vampire, is correctly associated with blood. Just not as anyone would be led on to believe... Stage one is a blood ritual. The Animagus candidate must use a blade endowed with magical properties to slice a shallow cut deep enough to allow their blood to flow into a cauldron. Seven drops is the most potent quantity. Inside the cauldron, a portrait of some fashion of the candidate must be submerged beneath the Stuyvesant Potion. Potion should be chilled until blood is added. Once blood is added, potion will proceed to boil. Let Potion simmer for as many hours and minutes as candidate's month and day of birth respectively. The candidate must then drink one ounce of the completed potion and will experience a vision indicating the animal essence inside them. _

Harry gingerly set down the pamphlet. What in Merlin was a Stuyvesant Potion? He'd certainly never heard of it… He glanced over at Hermione. Surely, she would know.

But just then, Hermione looked up from her own pamphlet, which she had meticulously read _all_ the way through from the introduction to the first stage, and said, "What's a Stuyvesant Potion?"

Ron and Harry nearly fell out of their seats.


	11. Expendable

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Expendable **

_A/N: I want to thank everyone who reviewed. Your input is greatly appreciated and I regret not being able to thank everyone who took the time to do so. This chapter goes off a bit on a tangent, so don't be too disheartened, I'll be getting back to all the lesson-y goodness shortly. Please be sure to review. Hope you like this one._

Eyebrows raised in surprise, Remus mock gasped, "Did I hear that right? Hermione not knowing something?" The Werewolf looked slightly stunned, and just a little amused. "This is unprecedented."

Hermione, far from finding this funny, was quickly becoming upset. "I just don't understand it. I've read through all seven potion text books and," she shot Harry a dirty look, "I doubt even the Prince has a recipe for the Stuyvesant Potion."

"Prince?" Remus asked. "What are you talking about?"

Harry was making wild hand gestures to Hermione, telling her to knock it off, but she either didn't see them or chose not to as the next thing out of her mouth was, "Harry's used Potion book he received from Slughorn at the beginning of the year."

Harry broke out in a fit of coughing at which point Ron began to laugh hysterically, but Hermione ignored them both and said disdainfully, "Its previous owner had desecrated it and added all these notes to the margin which Harry has been using to get ahead in Potions."

Remus spared a brief look of disappointment toward Harry before he spun back around to Hermione and asked urgently, "And Prince?"

"The Half Blood Prince was the author of the graffiti."

Alarm flashed in Lupin's amber eyes before he was able to mask it

"Do you know who it was Professor?" It was Ron who asked.

Remus wearily sat back down on the black leather chair and ran a scarred hand through his peppered hair in a very frustrated manner. Looking up at the three of them with a sigh, he said in a quiet, delivered voice, "Harry, I'm going to need you to give me that book."

"But I don't have it with me," Harry said, involuntarily backing away from Lupin's quiet, dangerous tone.

Pointedly, in the same nerve-crackling voice, his face dead serious, Lupin said, "Then we'll wait for you."

Harry thought Lupin was being a bit overly dramatic, but he went to retrieve the book anyway. Anything was better than standing there facing Lupin's quiet wrath.

On his way back from the Gryffindor Commons, Harry ran into Draco. Literally.

"Bloody Hell, Potter! Watch where you're going!" Malfoy shouted, holding his pale forehead.

"Me!?" Harry asked, his own hand clutched to his lightening scar, "Why don't you!"

Malfoy looked like he wanted to argue some more, but instead, he just threw up his hands, his wand noticeably absent, and with a frustrated sigh said, "I don't have time for this," and left as quickly as he had come.

Unfortunately for Harry, Malfoy was headed in the same direction he, Harry, was going; toward the Room of Requirement.

Harry watched him go, his heart pounding in anticipation. This wasn't going to end well.

Making sure Malfoy was out of hearing range, Harry carefully followed him, the Half Blood Prince's book pressed tight against his chest. Had he been able to see himself, he probably would have laughed. He looked like Hermione with her newest library acquisition.

Behind a suit of armor, Harry watched as Malfoy stalked back and forth before the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, an anxious expression cast over his pale features.

Knowing that Malfoy was soon to be rejected, for still in the Room was Remus, Ron and Hermione, Harry weighed his options. Malfoy obviously wanted inside the Room of Requirement.

This explained a lot actually. Every time Harry had previously found Crabbe and Goyle standing post or otherwise separated from Malfoy, Draco himself had been completely off of the Marauder's Map.

_You didn't show up on the map in the Room of Requirement. _

Knowing that whatever Malfoy was up to was close at hand and tied to the Room, Harry decided to go with his gut and ignore the urgings of Dumbledore who had told him that the matter was well covered. Still in the shadow of the silver suit of armor, Harry slowly flourished his wand and took aim before casting, '_Stupefy!_'

With no warning, Malfoy was unable to dodge the spell. He fell with a THUNK! to the ground in a disorganized heap. Harry cautiously stepped up to the prone figure, his heart pounding with the weight of his action.

Not giving him a chance to come to, Harry quickly paced the necessary three times in front of Barnabas and was relieved when the door materialized. He hastily ran back over to the suit of armor and gathered the Prince's book and then levitated Malfoy and together, the two of them entered the Room of Requirement; though probably not in the way Malfoy had originally envisioned himself entering it, Harry thought ruefully.

Silence greeted Harry as his three companions gaped open-mouthed at what Harry had floated in. Finally, it was Ron who spoke, "Guess this brings a whole new meaning to 'look what the cat dragged in,' eh?"

Needless to say, his joke wasn't much appreciated by the prefect-minded Hermione and Lupin.

If it was possible, Lupin's expression was even more severe. "What have you done Harry?"

Hermione's shocked expression turned to one of exasperation. "Did you really need to be so rash, Harry?"

Harry slowly met their eyes and tried to explain himself. "I ran into him on my way back from getting the book." He held it up to Lupin, who immediately seized it. Harry went on nervously, "He seemed really anxious to be somewhere and it turns out, that place was this room. I followed him and when I realized that he'd either eventually compromise us or worse, he'd run off and we'd never know what he was up to, I decided to stun him." Harry levitated Malfoy over one of the leather armchairs and then lifted the spell. Ron and he felt a certain satisfaction at the sizable drop Malfoy experienced upon landing.

Lupin walked up to Harry and gazed down at the unconscious Slytherin. "This is very serious, Harry. I wish you would have thought this out a little better."

"Even you have to admit he's up to something, Remus," Harry said. "Remember what Hermione and I told you we'd overheard Snape and him talking about during Slughorn's party? He's the reason Katie's still in the hospital. He's working here, at Hogwarts, under Voldemort's order."

"To what end? I remember Mr. Malfoy in my class, and while he was obviously predisposed to object to my instruction and rebel against my teachings, he was a mediocre student to begin with. What need could Voldemort," Remus spared a look at Ron who was giving seizure-like twitches every time the Dark Wizard's name was mentioned before he went on, "Possibly have of Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry took a deep breath and hoped for the best. "I think he was ordered by Voldemort…" Hermione stomped on Ron's foot this time, "to kill me."

"Blimey…" Ron whispered, all thoughts of the pain in his toe gone.

Hermione seemed less than impressed however, and Remus was darn right skeptical.

"I sincerely doubt that Harry." Hermione said as she drew her wand at the former ferret and cast, '_Incarcerous_!' effectively tying Malfoy to the chair.

"Why?" Harry swished his wand and cast _ferula_, producing a strip of dressingHe used the bandage as a gag and stood back from Malfoy to admire their handiwork. "What other mission would Voldemort send _Draco_, a student, to accomplish here?"

"Wait, are we even sure Malfoy is a Death Eater? I mean, he's our age. Why would Voldemort allow him into the ranks?"

"A very good question Ron. But one easily answered." Remus said and then bent over Malfoy, who was beginning to stir, and adjusted the rope and Malfoy's black Slytherin robe to where they could all see his left forearm.

In sharp contrast with Draco's pale white skin and white/blonde hair, stood Voldemort's black Dark Mark, its snake slowly, almost undiscernibly slithering around and through the tattooed skull.

The trio collectively gasped.

"To answer your other question," Remus said as he let Malfoy's robe fall back over the ominous symbol and readjusted the rope, "Voldemort wanted someone inside. To do what, I'm not exactly sure, but I'm beginning to get an idea."

"And you already know why Voldemort couldn't have ordered Draco to kill you, Harry," Hermione said pointedly.

Harry was a little confused. He shook his head at her. Hermione sighed and with her back to Lupin and the awakening Malfoy, she drew a sphere in the air using her wand. Harry nearly hit himself. Of course! The prophesy- "…_either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."_

"Honestly," Hermione muttered as she turned back around, but Harry didn't hear her. His mind was too busy mulling over what possible mission Malfoy could have been sent on and why his faith in Snape was gone.

"Ugh…" Malfoy moaned.

"Don't mean to rush anyone," Ron said, "But what are we going to do here?"

Hermione tentatively stepped over to Draco and flipped his robe over his face, effectively blocking out his vision. She quickly stepped back over to Harry, Ron, and Lupin and whispered, "What Harry did was impulsive, _but_, this really is a keen opportunity to discover what they're planning. I say it would be foolish to pass it up."

Remus looked down at her in surprise. "Out of all three of you, I thought you'd be the one to stand against this, Hermione. Short of Veritaserum or ligilimens, both of which I have no skill for brewing or casting, I don't see anyway that we can force Mr. Malfoy to divulge anything against his will."

"Why try to force him when we can simply outsmart him?" Hermione said in a very un-Hermione like voice.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look and Remus arched an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

The four of them huddled in a tight circle as Hermione laid out her plan in a quiet whisper.

It was quite simple in fact. They stunned Malfoy one more time, knocking him out once again, and then proceeded to levitate him out of the Room. Hermione then directed her wand to carefully lower him onto the ground in front of the suit of armor Harry had earlier used to hide behind. Next came Ron, and with a bit of struggling against the Knight's empty shell, he succeeded in arranging the armor in such a way that it made it look like it had just used its heavy mace on the comatose Slytherin.

Harry left the three of them arguing with the armor to hold its position as he ran back, once more, to the Gryffindor Dormitories to fetch his cloak and the Marauder's Map.

By the time he'd returned, the armor was being perfectly still and Ron, Hermione, and even Remus, were wearing matching triumphant smirks.

"How'd you get it to stand there like that?"

Ron grinned and then whispered to Harry as he, Hermione and Remus attempted to squeeze in with Harry under the Invisibility Cloak. "Remus threatened to rust him in place and then move Sir Cadogan's painting onto the wall next to him."

Hermione laughed under her breath, "He was quite still after that."

"I don't blame him." Harry said as someone's elbow hit his stomach. His cloak was much too small for the four of them.

Remus, bringing up the rear, whispered, "As nostalgic as being under this cloak again is, could someone _please_ _Enervate _Mr. Malfoy before my claustrophobia sets in?" Remus sneezed. "And Ron?"

"Yea?"

"Next time, please go a little easier on the cologne."

"But I just got it for my birthday," Ron whined, "It's the one the Irish team wears!"

"That doesn't mean you need to wear it all at once," Hermione said nasally. Harry assumed she was holding her nose. "I don't even have a Werewolf's sense of smell and my eyes are burning."

"Lavender gave it to me…"

"Oh, and I suppose that makes it ok to make us all choke on it?"

"Enough!" Harry said, cutting off what was sure to be another stimulating round of argument between the two. "Let's focus on what's at hand. We'll have to time this perfectly…"

Just then, Malfoy stirred and slowly sat up. He clutched his forehead in pain and shakily rose to his feet, giving the suit of armor some clearance and regarding it speculatively.

It seemed to have worked, because the next thing they knew, Draco was pacing back and forth along the corridor. The Room of Requirement's door emerged as it always did from seemingly nowhere along the wall and the blonde Slytherin proceeded to enter it.

"Now!" Harry whispered as he began to shuffle forward, the others awkwardly following him. After what felt like the longest and noisiest ten meters of his life, they had reached the door. Malfoy had just gingerly stepped through it, and already, it was rapidly closing.

Panic set in as Harry realized they weren't going to make it, but suddenly, his feet ceased to touch the floor. He felt himself and the others being bodily picked up and hurled through the doorway of the Room of Requirement to land lightly on their feet once more, the cloak firmly in place.

Hermione, from behind him, whispered in his ear, "Always remember to swish and flick, Harry." He shivered as he felt her lips graze the shell of his earlobe.

Reluctantly, Harry's attention snapped back to Malfoy as the Slytherin began to purposefully stride over to a large wooden cabinet. A cabinet that Harry knew very well.

Carefully guiding the others around the many assorted trinkets and strange items that littered the large room, Harry was able to position them directly over Malfoy's shoulder. Draco was fiddling with the cabinet, checking its hinges and screws before he yelled inside it, "HISS! HISS!" A voice on the other side, which Harry knew to be emanating from Borgin and Burkes made the reply, "HA-OOO!" Remus winced.

In a much quieter voice, Malfoy asked, "How much longer must the Dark Lord be made to wait for your incompetence? He'll have your head soon, and I'll let Grayback see that's it's delivered to him personally."

Borgin's shifty voice drifted through from the cabinet, "Mine's not the only one he'll have." There was a pause in which Draco irritably shuffled his feet. Borgin went on, "Gimme a couple more months. It's delicate work recalibrating something so ancient. Not many are left can do the job."

Draco swore under his breath. "Fine. You have until the end of term. Be expecting a visit if it's not ready by then." He then abruptly "hung up" on Borgin by slamming the cabinet door shut. A diadem balanced above it wobbled for a second precariously before sitting still once more.

Uncharacteristically deflated, Malfoy leaned his bruised forehead against the cabinet's black rim and sighed. He seemed very worried, and at this close range, Harry could just see the dark purple rims under Malfoy's cold gray eyes that he'd failed to notice earlier. Draco was obviously under a lot of pressure from Voldemort to have the cabinets connected soon. Harry could only guess why. Maybe Voldy had finally decided to invade his old school grounds? But who knew..

Draco stayed hunched over like that for several moments, collecting himself, before he rose to his feet and left the Room of Requirement leaving four very quiet Gryffindors in his wake.

"What do you reckon Hermione?" Harry asked once they were all once again alone in the Room of Requirement.

"This cabinet looks familiar…Do you know what he was talking about?"

"It should look familiar, it's identical to the one at Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. I'm guessing he wants them repaired."

"What do they do?" Ron asked, peering inquisitively at the cabinet.

"They connect. How else might Mr. Malfoy communicate with someone outside the school?" Lupin said as he too carefully studied the black wooden fixture.

"What I don't understand," Harry said as he stuffed his Invisibility cloak into the large pocket in his school robes, "Is why Malfoy needs to have it repaired. It's obviously working or he wouldn't have been able to talk to Borgin."

Remus slapped Ron's hand away when he tried to open the cabinet door. "Perhaps they don't connect enough."

Hermione's eyes alit. "You're thinking that maybe Malfoy wants to transfer more than just sound waves through the cabinets?"

"Exactly."

"A Hogwarts invasion… But what about what happened with Katie?"

They were all silent for a while before Ron piped up, "Reinforcements." At seeing their blank looks, Ron elaborated, "Well, I know that's what I'd do if I were planning on offing someone like Harry."

"But we've already decided that it can't be Harry, Ron."

Lupin spoke up. "Perhaps you are both right. Malfoy is both bringing reinforcements to Hogwarts from Borgin and Burkes and while at the same time, his intended target is someone other than Harry here."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Well tell us then."

Lupin grinned at her. "I misjudged Mr. Malfoy earlier. While not being nearly as proficient as other Death Eaters, Draco possesses two qualities all of them lack. He is a student here, at Hogwarts. And, he is expendable."


	12. Wicked Souls

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Wicked Souls **

_A/N: I have no excuses but let me just reaffirm how sorry I am. I hope there are still some readers of this out there, but if not, I don't think I would blame you. All belongs to J.K. Rowling, with the possible exception of my mediocre plot, which upon here on out, I hope to make some drastic deviation. Please R&R. ~HorseLoverTW_

BANG!

Harry saw golden snitches fluttering behind his eyelids as the back of his tousled head connected solidly with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.

"Do _try_ to watch where you aim him, Albus," the former Headmaster and ancestor of Sirius sneered as he watched, amusement evident in his dark eyes, as Harry fumbled for a moment before righting himself.

Ignoring the least popular Headmaster Hogwarts had ever had the misfortune of knowing; Dumbledore raised his good hand, wand in tow, and said gently, "Come Harry, once more."

Nearly gasping from the exertion of trying to repeatedly fight off having his mind invaded, Harry blearily nodded and allowed himself a few calming breathes, draining the thoughts from his mind as he did so. He knew that Dumbledore, unlike Snape during their occlumency lessons his previous year, would give him a moment to collect himself and to prepare for the onslaught.

After Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Remus had met with Dumbledore to inform him of what Draco was up to in the Room of Requirement, he had thanked them, meditated on it for a moment with several lemon drops popped in each cheek, and then announced that Harry would immediately be continuing his occlumency training under Dumbledore himself. He also strongly urged Remus that he begin occlumency training with Ron and Hermione as part of their special Room of Requirement regiment. When they had all gotten up to leave his office that night, Harry had gestured for the rest of them to go on and had waited patiently as all three of them filed out, shooting him curious looks. Harry had mouthed, 'later' to Ron and Hermione. Remus and he had just exchanged a nod of understanding. "Something to add, Harry?" Dumbledore had quietly asked with his back to Harry as he gently stroked Fawks' lowered head with the back of his burnt, desecrated hand. Harry hadn't bothered inquiring how his Headmaster knew he was still there, behind him, but instead stated, pulling the vial from his pocket as he did so, "I have the memory, sir."

Discovering the secret in Slughorn's memory had been a revelation unto itself. That Voldemort, as dark and twisted as he was, had willingly split his own soul as part of his abhorred effort to become immortal was incomprehensible. That he had done it seven times was ridiculous. And very potentially tricky for those who were compelled to kill him or have him return the favor, as Harry was wont to do.

However, there were a few positives that Harry had gathered from Dumbledore before the mind violations had begun in earnest.

First, the diary that had preyed upon, played with, and possessed Ginny his second year, the diary that had belonged to a quiet, teenage prefect named Tom Riddle, the diary that was also a Horcrux of Voldemort, was destroyed. Tom's own pet had betrayed him in the end. Harry wondered briefly if Nagini had ever had any inkling that another snake, a Basilisk, had occupied her place in her master's serpentine heart long before she had ever hatched. Then Harry released the thought and bricked up his mental wall just as he had been taught before another strong wave of legilimency rushed over him.

Walking back to the Gryffindor Tower that night, a slight twitch in his right eye from the mental barriers he'd been constantly building only to have ripped down, Harry considered the second Horcrux destroyed and the weight of the deadened hand on Dumbledore's arm.

And it scared him.

The next morning during breakfast in the Great Hall, Hermione wasted no time in sitting down beside him, Ron taking up the other side. The weeks following the trio's reunion had found Ron and Hermione increasingly spending more time together and Harry often found himself the odd one out. Harry enjoyed the situation about as much as his Horntail had enjoyed having her egg stolen from her. But instead of raging about Hogwarts breathing fire at anyone who dared to bother him, Harry swallowed his unease and did the right thing, pretending that nothing was amiss.

Hermione's lips barely moved as she casually leaned his way with the pretense of grabbing some marmalade and whispered, "The Stuyvesants are nearly ready, so we'll need to add our blood tonight. How did your training with Dumbledore go?"

Harry shrugged. "It's becoming easier to block, but the pain when I can't is worse."

Hermione nodded as if she had been expecting this. She was about to take a bite of her toast then seemed to think better of it and bit her lip before slowly replying, a slight bitter edge to her words, "Remus thinks my mental barrier might be strong enough that I'll be able to notice when someone breaks through."

Harry's lips twitched as a laugh threatened to betray him. "You know, Hermione, you don't _always_ have to come in first at everything."

Hermione simply scoffed.

Ron leaned over next to Harry's other side and whispered conspiratorially, still chewing a bit of his sunny-side up, "She's mostly just mad because I managed to kick Remus out of my head on the second go." Baffled, Harry fully turned to his freckled best friend. Ron finally swallowed the food in his mouth and said a bit sheepishly, "I don't, uh… seem to have as much trouble 'blanking-out," he used air quotes here, "As others. Or at least that's the explanation Lupin gave."

Harry was about to reassure Ron that it didn't necessarily imply he was unintelligent, when Hermione leaned back behind Harry and patted Ron's shoulder comfortingly before saying not unkindly, "You're far from stupid, Ron. I think that more than anything, this simply means you're better equipped to compartmentalize."

Both boys regarded her blankly for a second until she blushed and went on quickly, "There was something in one of my parent's medical journals in between the distributions of tooth decay to natural and artificial sweeteners that talked briefly about how men and women think differently. I remember it because I thought it strange that a psychological article would be buried in a Dentist magazine, but it said something to the effect that men compartmentalize more than women. Basically, you're able to put away the things you don't want to or can't think about while we can't help but worry over it."

"Sure explains a lot," Ron muttered under his breath so only Harry could hear.

Hermione continued on, oblivious to Ron's comment, "I'm not sure how much I agree with this theory, but it should make you feel better, Ron."

"And how's that?"

"You're not unintelligent, you're just more of a man."

Hermione's jaw dropped at what she had just unwittingly said and a hand quickly flew to her mouth in mortification.

Harry and Ron laughed, so loudly in fact, that Harry hardly noticed when Ginny, her face redder than her hair and her eyes a little bloodshot, sat down opposite him.

"What's so funny over here, then?" Ginny asked a little harshly as she roughly grabbed a plate and some silverware. She did not, however, put anything on her plate. Instead, she just glared at it, her bottom lip trembling.

Harry and Ron exchanged a worried look before Ron tentatively joked, "Hermione was just calling me a big piece of manliness." This fell flat as Ginny continued to regard her plate, obviously close to tears.

Harry, who had never considered the Hogwarts China anything to cry over, softly asked, "What's wrong, Ginny?"

Ginny finally raked her eyes up and locked onto his face before she gave a big sniff and decided instead to address Hermione. "Will you come with me to the Tower? I need to talk to someone."

Hermione nodded wordlessly, and gathering up her heavy bookbag, preceded Ginny out the doors of the Great Hall.

Ron stared intently for a moment at where Ginny had been before he quietly asked Harry, "You reckon I ought to hit Dean now, or wait till it's official?"

Harry didn't see Ginny at all the rest of the day, nor did he catch her at supper that night. So by the time that he entered the Room of Requirement to the rare occurrence of finding Hermione and himself the only ones there yet, he felt overwhelmed with curiosity and wasted no time bothering to sit on one of the large red cushions Hermione was reclined in re-reading her Animagi Pamphlet, before he blurted, "Well?"

"Well…" Hermione mimicked as she grudgingly sat the pamphlet down. "Dean apparently didn't feel adequate enough and they had a large row culminating in their mutual breakup."

Harry thought of how much he loved it that he hadn't needed to elaborate to Hermione what he was on about. She always just seemed to know. It made him realize once again how much he missed having Hermione all to himself. "Thanks," he said finally.

Hermione grinned weakly at him. "No problem."

"So," Harry began, distractedly, and unconsciously running a hand through his hair, unsure if pursuing something with Ginny was even what he wanted anymore, "Should I… err, you know?"

Hermione sighed. "That's the last thing you should be doing, Harry. Just let her come to you," they both turned to see Ron enter and Hermione quickly whispered, "She will when she's ready, just keep being there for her."

"Hey you lot!" Ron greeted as he flopped down on the blue cushion next to Hermione's. Looking around briefly and gently tapping Hermione's leg with his own, Ron asked, "Where's Lupin? I'm itching to know what I'll turn into!"

Hermione smiled at him. "Me too. I've been doing loads of research on the vision process," Ron and Harry grinned at the typical Hermione-ism, "And the actual word, 'vision' is a bit misleading."

This got Harry's attention. "What?" He asked dumbly.

Ron scooted in a bit closer to Hermione, with the pretense of paying attention, but Harry couldn't help but notice the way that they both seemed to blush a little. Hermione cleared her throat. "It's doesn't appear to be a vision so much as a strong and memorable impulse. It could be as simple as a feeling of what you'll become or as confusing as a twinge of that animal's psyche."

"So say you're going to be a stag," Ron prompted, grinning up at Harry.

"Well, I'm not sure you'd know what it would feel like to have antlers, but perhaps you would feel a heavy weight on the top of your head or your center of gravity shift as you'd be on four legs instead of two."

"You mean we won't see anything at all when we drink this?" Harry asked, a little dismayed as he gestured over to where the three potions chilled on the far wall of the expansive room.

"Maybe just the briefest flash of your animal's native environment. Like water if you were going to be a fish. Or trees if you were going to become something like your father did," Hermione added a little helplessly.

"Or perhaps a fire hydrant if you were to become like Sirius," Remus announced as he strided into the room, a richly star-embroidered Sapphire bundle in his hand.

"What have you there, Professor?" Harry asked, wondering if it were possibly a new challenge they'd have to fend against. Lupin often came into the room with some wild new dark creature or object they would have to figure out how to disarm or defeat like the Boggart. Last time, it had been a Kelpie so murderous at being found and dragged from the lake that they had spent half their lesson simply dodging its fluid kicks and the slick lunges of its powerful, watery jaws. Hermione, no surprise, had been the first to subdue it, but to Harry and Ron's credit, that might have had more to do with the fact that Kelpie's have a soft place for girls, than anything to do with Hermione's horse-whispering skills.

Lupin inspected each of the potions, muttering, 'yes… yes… very good,' before he turned to the trio and replied brightly, "I should hope that you're familiar enough with the material by now to answer yourself, Harry."

Harry dredged his mind, trying to remember what the pamphlet had said and idly contemplating the new light in Lupin's amber-tinged eyes.

Living in Hogsmead and teaching again had done wonders for the Werewolf. Although his clothes were just as worn-down and his scars just as numerous, the weeks had been kind to Professor Moony. It also hadn't hurt that he was no longer living among fellow Werewolves that would just as soon rip him to shreds as talk to him.

Lupin had gained back much of the weight he had lost, and had apparently taken the much-needed time to trim his hair and mend his robes. The difference was startling and Harry could almost make out the Marauder and best friend of his parents that Remus had been.

"I believe Remus has some manner of magically endowed blade buried within the cloth," Hermione stated primly, almost waving the line where such was mentioned in their pamphlets to the two clueless boys.

Clearly awed, Ron scratched his head. "Blimey, Hermione. That memory of yours is something else."

"You'd know it too if you had just read what you were supposed to," Hermione reprimanded, but again, a slight blush rouged her cheeks.

Lupin grinned a little. "Now, now Hermione. We won't tolerate any of your modesty. Not after you managed to brew a Stuyvesant potion. _Without _the assistance of a proper master, I might add."

Harry chucked. "And remember how much you _worried_ over it? It's a good thing Slughorn's not retiring otherwise Dumbledore'd have no choice but to hire you along for the Potions post, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh fine! So I know how to add ingredients and follow directions! Harry and Ron were the ones who… procured the necessary items. I can't very well receive all the credit…"

"Maybe just your fair share," Harry suggested diplomatically. "Hey, Remus?" Harry asked, suddenly curious as he turned to the werewolf.

"Hmm," replied Remus.

"I was just wondering how you and the Marauders were able to brew this back in your school days?"

Remus grinned mischievously, and said, "We actually had some 'help' from your mother, Harry."

Hermione interjected, "I didn't think that Lily was the type to aid in illicit activities? And wouldn't you have been making it in your fifth year when she was still not getting along well with Harry's father?"

"That would be an understatement, Hermione. Lily fairly despised the ground that James and Sirius walked on, but she and I got along decently enough seeing as we were both house prefects. So," Lupin leaned forward with a light in his eyes, "Under the plot that James cooked up, I went to the library, found a potion as close to the Stuyvesant as I could - with the same ingredients and such - and brought it to Lily, telling her it was for my _special_ end of the year OWL project in potions as I still needed some extra credit to make an acceptable grade in the class. Let me just stress that this wasn't outlandish as I have never been the best potions student. Lily, being the kind-hearted witch she was, agreed to help me out and Professor Slughorn was delighted to give the ingredients to his star pupil for such an ambitious project. We then worked on the potion together, Lily unwittingly brewing half of the potion herself- until we reached the point where the Stuyvesant diverged from potion Lily thought we were making. Then it was merely a matter of Sirius releasing his stranglehold on James. Lily became so frustrated that she didn't bother checking on the potion again!" The memory of James pestering Lily must have been rather funny as Lupin finished his story nearly laughing and almost had to wipe a mirthful tear from his eye before he could finally look up at his three younger friends.

Seeing the trio's various expressions- Hermione's slightly stricken look, Ron laughing uproariously, and Harry with equal parts amusement and horror- Lupin cleared his throat suddenly and quickly decided to move on, withdrawing a jewel-encrusted dagger from the starry cloth. A large sapphire gem on the decorative handle matched the fabric perfectly, accentuating its dark beauty.

Ron gave a low whistle and Harry, compartmentalizing the new story of his parents- Hermione would be so _proud_- eyed it appreciatively.

"This blade," Lupin intoned as he handed it to Hermione to pass along, "Is spelled with the properties to enable its user the gifts of accuracy and precision. It also has a lovely anti-rusting enchantment and luster charm on its metal giving it the nice sheen you see before you."

"But none of that really matters, does it?"

Lupin glanced at Harry, and nodded excitedly. The tale seemed to bring out the Marauder in Remus and Harry belatedly acknowledged that Remus was probably just as eager to bring about a new batch of animagi as Sirius would have. He felt a pang of loss that his Godfather wasn't there to share in the moment.

"No, it doesn't." Lupin grinned and walked over to their potions, waiting for them to follow before he continued, "The only attribute that makes this blade any worthier of our use than the next, is simply that it is graced with old magic in the first place."

Hermione raised her hand as though she were in class and then lowered it again sheepishly before asking, "Where exactly did you get such a dagger, Professor? I thought only older, pureblood families possessed such ornamental weapons."

"_Professor_ all of the sudden? What happened to _Re-mus_?" Ron muttered quietly to Harry behind his hand.

Harry grinned and muttered back, "I think Hermione's getting a bit excited at breaking the rules again. Always the trouble maker."

Remus, easily capable of hearing the boys' whispers from across the Great Hall if need be, sighed in disapproval at their teasing but ignored them as he replied to Hermione, "It is the dagger of a very old and pureblooded family."

Harry inspected the dagger a little closer now as Ron passed it to him and was just able to make out the stylized cursive letter 'P' adorning the center of the radiant blue gem.

"This isn't… mine, is it?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Lupin shook his head. "I'm afraid not." He plucked it from Harry's hands and twirled it loosely about his weathered fingers as he continued, "No, this blade belongs to Severus, and I fear it won't take him long to find it missing, this being the second time I've had to steal it from him, so it's best we get this step out of the way as quickly as possible."

Ron nearly howled in delight. "You mean you stole this from Snape!?" He shouted gleefully, looking dangerously close to thumping Lupin on the back at any moment.

"Twice!?" Harry grinned in approval.

Hermione sniffed in stark disapproval and reminded, "I think we should do like Remus suggested and move on before _Professor_ Snape becomes any the wiser."

Lupin nodded in agreement and said, "Quite right, Hermione."

Harry, a nagging thought refusing to leave, considered the Latin calligraphy running along the blade's dark handle and the loopy 'P' set into the sapphire once more before quickly asking, "But I don't understand why there's a 'P' here instead of an 'S'?"

Lupin gazed mysteriously at Harry for a moment, a small frown adding a couple of years to his image. "Ah, a good question indeed," he said slowly. "I'll leave it to you to figure out, and when you do, I trust you'll do the right thing and listen to Hermione."

A dark inkling pricked at the back of Harry's mind, promising the mystery would not remain such for much longer before he smirked at his former professor's wit and nodded solemnly. No matter the occasion, it was always sound advice to listen to Hermione.

"Alright," Lupin said brusquely, rubbing his hands together. "Who's going first?"

Hermione bravely stepped up to Lupin and held out her hand to accept the shiny dagger. "I have the longest wait. Might as well get it done with."

Lupin silently nodded and carefully handed her the blade before stepping out of her way, the concern in his eyes mirrored in Harry and Ron's as they anxiously watched Hermione hold her arm out above the potion her photo had been placed in before the translucent Stuyvesant had been brewed atop it.

Each of their photos had been cut away from the same photograph, a still picture that Colin had taken of the trio at the beginning of the year before the drama of Harry and Hermione's pseudo relationship and the messiness of Ron's real one with Lavender. It was taken outside near the lake on a fragilely warm September day, and the expression on each of their faces complimented the looming clouds and the shining sun. The shadow of Sirius's death still weighed on each of their expressions, most heavily on Harry of course, but it didn't keep the smiles from peeking through, happy to be in each other's company and drawing warmth from their friends' strengths.

Taking a deep, calming breath, looking down at what Harry knew was her own shining face reflected at the bottom of the frozen potion, Hermione steadily raked the tip of Snape's dagger along her inner arm for about an inch or so. She gave a brief wince, but didn't budge from her eerily still position until the blood pooled and gathered along the frayed edges of her skin before slowly falling in thick red drops to the cauldron below. Hermione counted precisely seven and then quickly jerked her arm away, clutching the wound to her chest as she watched, seemingly enraptured at the reaction within the potion.

Harry and Ron quickly joined her side as the Stuyvesant began to bubble and turn a startling blood red shade before it settled into a milder reddish-brown and continued to boil at a lesser degree. Harry glanced to his side at the arm Hermione was still tightly clutching to her body. He was vaguely aware Hermione handing off the dagger to Ron and of Remus casting an hourglass charm that would theoretically work much as a muggle egg timer might for the nine hours and nineteen minutes necessary for Hermione's potion to simmer but his main attention was drawn to the drops of blood slowly littering the floor beneath Hermione's feet.

"Here," he whispered quietly, gently prying her arm away from her chest and lightly running his thumb over the soft pink skin bordering the incision, inspecting the precise tear. Hermione *would* have an orderly cut. She gave a small shiver and a funny look his way before stepping a bit closer to him looking right into his face, almost daringly. A little unsure of her reaction, Harry swallowed nervously and proceeded to pull out his wand. Concentrating very carefully on the correct movement and intonation, he cast a silent '_Episkey_' to mend her broken skin.

Both of them watched her arm intently, still clasped gently in Harry's hand, as the skin mended itself back together as though it were being stitched with invisible sutures. A two-inch raw patch of skin on her inner arm was the only indication that it had ever been affected. Hermione shifted her gaze back up to Harry's face before she quietly whispered, her voice a little caught as their faces were mere inches apart, "Thanks."

"No problem," was all he could think to reply.

Ron, of course, chose that moment to shout from his cauldron, "Oy, Harry! You gonna take this, or what?" He waved the dagger Harry's way, Ron's blood evident upon it, and Harry wondered briefly if Remus had reminded Ron to _Scourgify_ the blade before using it.

Shrugging to himself and moderately annoyed with Ron's timing, Harry reluctantly left Hermione to perform the procedure on his own Stuyvesant.

Once all three of them were finished and had stopped bleeding all over the floor of the Room of Requirement- Ron had asked Harry to 'patch his arm up like he'd done for Hermione,' causing Harry to sputter uncomfortably and forcing Hermione to do the job herself.

Fortunately for Harry, Lupin took pity on his plight and used that moment to begin discussing what the trio could expect after their visions took place that night. "Once you have the general feeling of your animal, you will need focus on it… incessantly. Eventually your concentration will sufficiently enforce the link forged tonight from drinking the Stuyvesant."

"What's to keep us from transforming in the middle of the hallway once this occurs, Remus?" Harry asked, nervously envisioning himself suddenly becoming a squishy bug directly in front of Malfoy and his goons before they decided to step on him.

Before Remus could answer him, Hermione impatiently explained, "We'll need to use our wands the first several times we transform." She spun around to ask Remus, "How long does it normally take to achieve the proper level of concentration?"

Remus considered for a moment. "It only took James three weeks, but he was extremely gifted in transfiguration. Sirius took about two months and Peter didn't transform until nearly our sixth year."

Ron groaned, "If I take as long as that _rat_…"

Harry responded, "We'll be sure to whack you properly."

Because both Ron and Hermione were prefects, neither of them needed much of an excuse to be outside the Gryffindor Tower after hours. They often had to perform late night patrols to catch other students out of bed. Harry however, and it was still a bit of a sore spot with him, was not a prefect. So it was that while Ron and Hermione sat on the comfy cushions in the Room of Requirement, talking, flirting, whatever it was they were doing to occupy themselves as they waited the necessary amount of time for their potions to simmer, Harry had to go back to the Tower.

He made a big showing to Seamus and Dean, the latter of which he even went so far as to scowl at and mumble something along the lines of, "Not adequate enough, eh? That's for sure," though low enough to where he felt comfortable that his dark roommate and friend wouldn't actually hear. Confident that they would remember him pulling the curtains about his four poster that night, Harry waited until he could hear their familiar light snores- no one snored quite like Ron- before he fluffed his pillows under his comforter to look like him sleeping and ambled quietly out of the dorm under the protective cover of his invisibility cloak.

Harry thought he spotted the familiar platinum bob of Malfoy's head as he rounded the staircase, but luckily, it turned out to be the rump of the white pony Sir Cadogan galloped madly around on. It had been difficult at first scheduling their meetings with Remus on nights they would be assured of no conflict with Malfoy but after scouring his map routinely enough and now knowing what to look for- no Malfoy on the map meaning he was in the Room most likely tinkering with the cabinet and threatening Borgin- Malfoy was no longer an issue to their 'extra' lessons. It didn't mean that Harry had stopped obsessing over Malfoy though.

Shortly after that night they had spied on Malfoy in the Room of Requirement, the trio could be found sitting on their favorite red couch in the Gryffindor Commons watching the fire cracking merrily away before them. Harry, Ron and Hermione had discussed what was to be done regarding the "Malfoy Issue" as Ron had dubbed it. Hermione felt it wisest to leave it be, trusting in Dumbledore's judgment and that the Headmaster would fill them in with all prevalent information when he considered their minds safe enough to house such secrets. Ron, perhaps in part because of his effort to make amends with Hermione, concurred. This left Harry alone in the minority opinion that some action had to be taken regarding the blonde Slytherin.

It wasn't that Harry believed Dumbledore was losing it. Rather, he felt that Draco was. The boy was clearly becoming unstable, the pressure of whatever task Voldemort had assigned to him eating away at his sanity and stripping him down to a twitching, raccoon-eyed zombie. And even though Harry would follow Dumbledore blindly down a dark cave to the bowls of hell itself, he refused to ever trust anything Malfoy was responsible for.

Finally making his way back to the seventh floor and locating the tapestry of poor Barnabus still tragically trying to impart ballet to his oafish trolls, Harry eased thoughts of Malfoy from his mind as he entered the Room of Requirement and instead eagerly looked to where Ron, Hermione, and Remus were gathered around Ron's rather orange Stuyvesant potion. Being born on March first, and thus having only a three hour, one minute wait, Ron was the closest of the trio to discovering his inner animagus.

"Any changes?" Harry asked as he pulled the cloak off, making Ron and Hermione jump.

Remus didn't bother turning away from the potion to reply, "Excellent timing, Ron's only has another minute."

Harry took a quick glance at Hermione's still very brownish-red potion and his own rather dull brownish-black before quickly joining them to stare down at the bubbling orange liquid of Ron's.

All of them rather anxious, it was Ron who broke the tense silence to ask, "So what's with the different colors of the potions again?"

Hermione, an ounce flask in her hand, prepared to nab one drought of the potion as soon as Remus's hour glass charm announced it being ready, quickly explained to Ron once more, "Not only will the color be similar to us physically, our hair color for instance, but it also takes a likeness to the animal we'll be shifting into."

Ron looked skeptically down at his orange concoction. "Not many orange animals."

"Maybe it's just rather orange, not completely? Besides, there are loads of…" but the shrill DING of Remus's charm interrupted Harry. In a frenzy of bushy brown hair made frizzier by the simmering proximity of the cauldrons, Hermione zoomed in and scooped up the ounce of Ron's potion needed. She heaved a relieved sigh when she was sure the entire ounce was accounted for and then carefully handed the flask over to Ron.

His hands were nearly trembling as he accepted it, but he gave a quick grin to them before saying, "Bottom's up," and draining the flask in one quick swig.

Harry and Hermione watched him, barely breathing, as Ron's eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he stood rooted to the spot, clearly experiencing something.

After a few moments, he came back to them and shuttered, "Wow…"

"What was it like?" Harry asked.

"It was," Ron said, his eyes a little dreamy like Luna Lovegood's, "Amazing. I felt strong, and…" he looked a little embarrassed.

"Oh, go on Ron," Hermione urged, her chocolate eyes excited as she clutched Ron's elbow.

Ron glanced at her and then shyly added, "And respected."

"Respected?"

Ron looked his other way at Harry. "Like others looked up to me. To _me_."

"So perhaps something large?" Remus asked.

"I dunno. There was a definite flash of some kind of shrub though."

"Hmmm…" Hermione uttered as she pulled back from Ron and pensively put a finger to her mouth. Harry wished she wouldn't do that.

"What are you thinking?"

She ignored his question and instead walked over to the cavernous bookshelf the Room had equipped for their use to peruse a few of the zoology books she had been scanning before. "I'm not sure. Perhaps some sort of desert or savanna dwelling creature."

Ron yawned and sat on one of the sturdier leather chairs as opposed to the cushions lying about. "I could still be some sort Griffith or something, couldn't I?"

Remus chuckled. "It's possible, but _highly_ unlikely. Very few wizards make it as far as you have already, the process and ingredients needed to brew the Stuyvesant too difficult for most. Even fewer actually feel something when they do drink the potion. And only a small handful out of those who have felt their inner animal are able to successfully transfigure themselves."

"Yea," Ron said petulantly, "But there's nowhere that *says* magical animals are off-limits, right?"

"Well," Hermione said with a sigh as she regarded him over the rim of the next book she had already plucked off the shelf, "Just because no one has heard of it happening before doesn't mean that it hasn't."

"Huh?"

"There's never been any confirmed animagi case where the witch or wizard became a magical creature," Hermione concluded, starting to sound a bit annoyed.

"Ah. Well, still. It could happen."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and addressed Harry as she continued to flip through the pages of her current selection, speaking quietly enough so both Ron and Lupin were out of earshot. "Harry, I've made a few more notes in my journal," Harry nodded, remembering that Hermione had started a journal to keep up with her own theories of where and what the Horcruxes could be, "And it occurred to me that of the four more we know to be out there, subtracting of course the ring, the diary, and Voldemort himself, at least one will have to be very near to Voldemort at all times."

"How do you figure? Dumbledore thinks that most of the ones remaining are related to the Founders because Riddle had some sort of sick fascination with them. He'd want something that valuable to be in a safe, protected place, away from prying eyes."

"I agree with all that, but wouldn't it make sense for him to want at least one to keep an eye on, to ensure that the magic was still functioning properly?" Hermione surreptitiously glanced Lupin's way, making sure he was still chatting with Ron, and whispered, "Horcruxes rely on very unstable dark magic that not much is known about. Voldemort, if he really was this intelligent wizard everyone says he was, would undoubtedly want one close in order to note any changes."

Harry ran a hand through his messier than usual hair and yawned before giving a nod. "I'll run it by Dumbledore during our next lesson." Deciding that the nearly four hour wait they had before his potion was ready would be better spent off his feet, Harry gingerly lowered himself onto a green cushion. He found himself remarkably close to Hermione's legs upon getting situated and closed his eyes, trying to mentally drain the lecherous thoughts of her calves that had somehow lodged their way up his subconscious.

Seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil, Hermione lowered herself onto the adjoining cushion as well before asking, her book forgotten at her side, "Are you still upset about Malfoy?"

Lying, Harry mumbled, his eyes still shut, "No. Why'd you ask that?"

He could almost hear Hermione's know-it-all smirk forming. "You're such a terrible liar, Harry. It's almost sweet."

The corner of his mouth twitched, but Harry otherwise avoided replying.

"I've just been thinking about that conversation we eavesdropped on between Malfoy and Professor Snape, and it occurred to me that Malfoy's occlumency skills must be fairly formidable if even Professor Snape was unable to bypass them."

"Your point?"

"Maybe…" she paused, and Harry finally cracked a lid open to glance at her. She was biting her lip again. He quickly closed his eye once more. "Maybe we can somehow convince Malfoy to trust us. To exchange what he knows for protection with the Order."

Harry's eyes opened wide in shock as he sat bolt upright. "You can't be serious!?"

Remus looked up from his seat next to Ron and asked, "What's this about Sirius?"

"Hermione's gone and lost it!" Harry shouted back, still reeling that levelheaded Hermione would suggest such an outrageous thing.

"I could've told you that, mate," Ron said as he and Lupin came over.

"She thinks we can get bloody _Malfoy_," he spat out his name like rotten fruit in his mouth, "On our side."

"WHAT!?" Ron nearly screeched, betrayal written all over his face. It was almost as bad as when Harry and kissed Hermione in the Gryffindor Commons.

Even Remus had a hint of skepticism as he patiently said "Gentlemen," in his most pacifying voice, his hands up gesturing silence, "Let's give Hermione a change to explain."

Hermione looked a little scared as she eyed Harry and then Ron before scooting a little closer to Remus, the only one not being blatantly hostile toward her. "I image that… Draco," both boys shuttered at the use of the git's first name, but Hermione plowed on, "Is under extreme pressure by Voldemort with probably his own life and his mother's at stake."

Ron scoffed, too enraged to register that he'd just heard Voldemort's name without flinching.

"No, really. Consider how badly Lucius Malfoy botched things in the Department of Mysteries? And because he's locked up in Azkaban for the moment, the only one Voldemort can take out his punishment on is Draco, newly turned Death Eater and in way over his head."

"So you believe Draco would willingly leave the Death Eaters if we guaranteed protection for himself and his family?" Remus asked, clearly mulling it over.

Harry mulishly refused to accept what he was hearing.

"I think he might."

"I'll bring it up with Dumbledore. I'm sure the thought must have crossed his mind, perhaps another reason behind your furthering education in occlumency?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a guilty look. Dumbledore had agreed, probably knowing he would anyway, that Harry could share the information about the Horcruxes with Ron and Hermione, but he had specifically forbidden Harry from sharing it with anyone else, even Remus.

Ron coughed. "Err…yea. Sounds like some wacky theory Dumbledore would've foresaw."

The four of them didn't get much sleep that night. They'd entertained themselves between the 'visions' by alternately sleeping, chatting, or practicing their spellwork.

Harry's Stuyvesant had left him confused and a bit exhilarated. When the potion had worked its way down his esophagus, the feeling he got on his broom came to him, as though he were traveling at incredible speeds, his pulse in his temple and his heart in his stomach. When his vision cleared and the room stopped swimming enough for him to make out Ron and Hermione's concerned expressions, he'd laughed, feeling a little high. "I'm apparently going to be very fast," he said, quelling their fears that he'd gone and lost his mind.

"Did you see anything like when I glimpsed that shrub?"

"No, actually, I didn't see anything at all. Just the speed."

Remus scratched his chin in puzzlement. "This is very unusual Harry. Normally a physical attribute of the animal reveals itself, or a clue as to its habitat as evidenced by Ron's. Your animal could by anything from a fish to a bird."

"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed, excited once again and grateful that they'd stopped teasing her over her suggestion about Malfoy. "You said you saw just the speed, right Harry?"

"Err… yea?"

"Maybe you were seeing in tunnel vision? You know, some insects experience tunnel vision because their minds can't process what they see quickly enough."

The dreaded thought of Malfoy squishing him popped up in Harry's mind again uncontrollably. "So I'm going to be a beetle like Rita Skeeter? Is that what you're telling me!?" Harry asked, slightly panicked as he tried in vain to appear amused.

"It's always a possibility," Hermione replied, quite calmly.

Hermione's vision had been even murkier with her only clue being an oddly chilling feeling she'd gotten on the tip of her nose and a sensitivity on the bottom of her feet.

When Hermione told them this, Remus just shook his head, hiding a grin behind his hand and said dismissively, "It's probably best not to speculate."


	13. What Might Have Been

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**The Gryffindor Princess and the Half-Blood Prince **

_Disclaimer: I own not. All is the property of J.K. Rowling and I thank her for letting me play in her world and with her wonderfully colorful characters. _

_A/N: I would just like to thank everyone who reviewed. I was worried that my characterizations would be off after not writing them for so long, but I feel really encouraged by your feedback. A lot of you also shared your thoughts about the trio's animagus forms. While I can't confirm anything, let me just say that many of you were very warm. Please continue to share with me what you think of the story so far and any suggestions for improvement you might have. Some of the dialogue in this chapter comes directly from 'The Half-Blood Prince.' The quote is an altered rendition of one made by John Greenleaf Whittier. Special thanks goes out to Riddledw, my very kind beta, for help on the editing and plot points. Hope you enjoy, Cheers! ~HorseLoverTW_

"Harry, would you mind helping me explain to Katie our new offensive play-the one where she's supposed to fake it to Demelza and then actually pass it back to Ron who makes the long throw to me?" Ginny asked beseechingly, the Gryffindor Quidditch Playbook spread across her lap and Katie Bell reclining easily next to her, no sign that she had been close to dying only a month ago from a cursed necklace.

"Sure!" Harry replied eagerly, the thought of sitting next to Ginny on the very cramped looking couch brightening his mood considerably as he stood from his chair. "Just let me go put away my stuff."

She gave him a radiant smile and nodded. Whether her smiles had always been radiant, Harry really couldn't have said for certain, but they certainly were as of late.

Katie just glanced between the two and smirked knowingly.

Harry ran up the stairs to his dormitory and swung the door open wide, preparing to just toss his school things onto his bed before re-joining his teammates back downstairs, but froze when he saw someone else already sitting on his bed, conversing with Ron.

Hermione was quite positively _lounging_ on his four-poster stomach down, legs idly swishing back and forth above her. Harry's pillow was propped up under her elbows and he noticed with a growing heat in his face that she had taken the liberty of doffing her robes and was currently lying there in just her school uniform with a couple of buttons loosened from her oxford. The fact that Hermione had cleavage was nothing new to Harry. The thought that Hermione was _exposing_ said cleavage, in the boy's dormitory, in Harry's own bed to be more exact, was frighteningly novel.

"He said you had to obsess over the feeling, Ron." Hermione was saying exasperatedly to Ron from where he sat on his own four-poster, holding a bloodied handkerchief to his nose. "Not knock yourself unconscious over it."

Ron noticed him first and appeared somewhat relieved at the interruption. "Ey Arry!" He garbled from behind the handkerchief far too shrilly for one whose nose still appeared to be bleeding quite profusely.

Hermione desisted with the disapproving glare she had been shooting Ron's way and quickly sat up and jumped off of Harry's bed when she saw him. "Oh, hi there Harry," she said, looking a little guilty. "Did you finish that parchment for Professor Snape's class tomorrow? I heard from Hannah that he's going to be testing us over our wandless magic proficiency. Justin was caught so unprepared that he chose to use one of Fred and George's products. He must have gone a bit far, though, because I heard that he is still in the Hospital Wing recovering."

"Why are you in here?" He asked her stupidly by way of greeting, still trying to block the image of her cleavage from his mind as what she had just rambled on about finally began to sink in. "Oh, and yea. Err… well, mostly at any rate. Only a couple more inches to go on it." He glanced Ron's way. "And how did you 'knock yourself unconscious,' Ron?"

Ron's ears reddened to their normal shade as he opened his mouth to explain, but Hermione beat him to it. "Ron was apparently concentrating _so_ hard," she rolled her eyes at the red-head, "on the feeling of his animagus that he managed to literally walk into a wall. The suit of armor near where the incident happened almost lost its helmet laughing at him. I had to help Ron back up here, he absolutely refuses to go to Madame Pomfrey though he won't tell me why," she added huffily.

"I didn't know the armor could laugh…" Harry finally said, grinning a little at Ron's expense.

"I pan as-sir you, arry," Ron said sourly, his voice muffled by the handkerchief as he wobbly stood up from his bed, "lat bloody ar-mor as a wight twist-ed ense ob umor."

Harry stepped up to Ron and pulled the handkerchief back, revealing a very irritated nose, almost humorously red due to Ron's clashing Weasley features, and a fresh spurt of blood caught Harry full in the face. Harry slowly wiped some of it from his trusty glasses before saying firmly, "I don't care how ridiculous you look, Ron. You're going to the Hospital Wing right now."

"Ibbs pine, you two. Honess…" but his flushed face perceptively paled at that moment and he swayed dangerously on his feet before Harry grabbed him around the waist, steadying him.

Hermione quickly got on the other side of Ron to help Harry support his weight and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness he'll listen to someone. I was getting worried he'd pass out from blood-loss right here."

They began to awkwardly shuffle their way out the room and down the stairs. Harry arched an eyebrow at Hermione from the other side of Ron and said stiffly, "You didn't look terribly worried about it when I entered."

Defending herself, and stumbling under Ron's weight as they slowly stepped down the stairway, Hermione puffed, "I had… been at it… for quite a while… before you showed up." They made it to the base of the stairs and Harry leaned Ron against the banister so Hermione could catch her breath.

Several of the students that had been milling about the Common Room that night, including Ginny and Katie, rushed over to see what was wrong with Ron.

"What did you go and do now, Ron?" Ginny asked, the annoyed tone in her voice strongly reminding Harry of the times Mrs. Weasley would round on the twins for their latest product or the clamor of litigation wizards that came knocking on the Burrow's door every now and then due to some lawsuit over WWW products and their many, many misuses.

Ron weakly raised his head and looked about feebly, but Ginny would have none of his theatrics and persisted, "You're not fooling anyone so you best just tell me now before I have to reveal some of your reply letters to Lavender over the Holidays."

Ron's grip on the banister tightened until his knuckles looked about the shade of his strangely pale face, his other hand still tightly clutched to the handkerchief, keeping the blood at bay. He adamantly shook his head 'no' in horror.

Ginny's lips curved upward into a delightfully evil-looking grin. "Dear Lavvy, I miss you so so sooo muuuuch," Ginny began in a fairly accurate representation of the sappy voice Ron had adopted when blathering to Lavender. "I can't wait to get back to school so we can…"

"CAT'S ENOUB!!" Ron bellowed from behind his handkerchief, looking as if he'd like nothing better at that moment than to throttle his sister.

Harry, Hermione, and a couple of the other students gathered around noticed the drops of blood that burst from behind Ron's hand as he yelled. But it wasn't until Dean, who Harry hadn't even noticed was to his right had said evenly, "He looks like he needs to go to Madame Pomfrey," that Harry finally thought of healing Ron himself.

Why hadn't any of them just used a simple _Episkey_ to heal Ron's nose?

But then he remembered that they had only just recently learned how to do it from Lupin and the spell had a nasty tendency to suture the flesh together a little haphazardly, not a good idea to use when your nose could be stitched close for instance.

Wrapping his arm supportively around Ron once more, Harry said, "Dean's right." Dean gave him an odd look that Harry didn't catch as he continued, addressing Ginny and Katie apologetically, "We'll have to go over that play later. Have to have a Keeper before we can worry about which offenses to use."

Making their way down the darkened hall toward the hospital wing at a pace so achingly slow that Harry thought he might have actually counted the number of portraits along the way correctly, Hermione blessedly broke the silence and asked Harry, "Don't suppose you've had any… breakthroughs with your form?"

"Haven't broken anything, if that's what you mean. But I haven't really felt much closer to discovering what it could be either. You?"

Hermione shifted Ron's arm from where it had dipped dangerously close to her bottom- though whether Ron had done that accidentally or on purpose was questionable, due to his being nearly unconscious- and answered, "I was imagining that the tip of my nose was in an ice-cream cone and that I was standing on needles, and then another feeling came to me."

Harry smirked at her. "What feeling could you possibly get from acupuncture and a clown face?"

Hermione scowled, but went on eagerly, "I felt fluffy."

He'd not been expecting this response and stumbled, Ron groaning at the jostle. "Excuse me?"

"Well, it felt like my hair, you know- my bushy hair," she said this impatiently as though it were obvious her hair was a creature unto itself, "had become even bushier, ubiquitous almost." Seeing the perplexed crease of Harry's brow, Hermione elaborated, "Like my bushy hair was _everywhere_."

"Ah," Harry said slowly. "Well, at least you can be pretty sure you're still going to be a mammal. That's something, right?" He asked with a grimace, staggering under the weight of Ron as he tried to open the hospital wing doors while balancing his friend.

"Oh honestly, Harry." Hermione sighed, and with a flick of her wand, the doors opened wide.

They dragged Ron the rest of the way into the Wing and lowered him onto the nearest bed, Justin Finch-Fletchley peering curiously at them through blood-shot eyes and a ridiculously swollen neck from his hospital bed. He made a 'what happened to him?' gesture toward Ron.

Hermione went to go fetch Madame Pomfrey from her office while Harry told Justin, "He got into a bit of a scuffle with one of the suits of armor. Apparently hadn't been paying attention and accidentally hit the thing. Went ballistic and Ron ended up making the acquaintance of a nearby wall rather sharply."

Justin gave a sympathetic wince and nodded as Harry marveled at his fib. Normally, Hermione was the one to rush to an appropriate sounding explanation. Perhaps she was beginning to rub off on _him_ as much as Ron claimed their delinquency had rubbed off on her?

Closing his eyes and letting these thoughts drain from his head, Harry evened his breathing, practicing his occlumency and waiting until he'd formed a descent barrier before opening his eyes once more.

"And what's wrong with you this time, Mr. Potter?" Madame Pomfrey asked, pursing her lips and already pulling her wand out on him to begin taking his pulse and temperature.

Harry raised his arms to ward her off and began backing away as he quickly explained, "No! Err… it's not me. Ron's got a terrible nose-bleed that won't seem to stop."

Madame Pomfrey turned incredulously, as if she couldn't understand how Harry could be in her ward and not deathly ill and saw Ron for the first time. "Mr. Weasley again?" She quickly turned her skilled wand on Ron and began running her diagnostics. She looked up sharply from Harry to Hermione and landed her eyes back on Harry again as she asked brusquely, "Do you have any idea if this has anything to do with Mr. Weasley's earlier poisoning?"

Harry hurriedly shook his head. He hadn't even considered that possibility before and glanced at Ron with a new rush of concern.

Hermione spoke up timidly, which was odd for Hermione, but understandable given the fussiness and intensity of Madame Pomfrey when she was in full mother-hen mode. "Ron has had quite a bit on his mind lately. A lot of new magic that he's been studying very hard to master…"

Harry nodded in agreement. It was as close to the truth as they could safely let the Mediwitch get at any rate.

Gathering that was all the two would say, Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at them and pointed toward the door. "I'll see what can be done for Mr. Weasley. The both of you need to head back to your dorm now, it's getting late." Harry and Hermione looked undecidedly at Ron and each other for a moment, feeling guilty at just leaving him there in the cold and sterile hospital wing before Madame Pomfrey urged a little more crisply, "Out with you!"

They quickly fled, waving helplessly to Justin on their way out. As they left, Harry could just hear Madame Pomfrey's mutterings of 'I told Albus his curriculum this year was too demanding… but will he ever listen to me? ha!'

On the way back from the hospital wing, somewhere on the seventh floor between the Divination Tower and the Gryffindor Commons, Harry abruptly grabbed Hermione by the shoulder and pulled her into the shadows of a small alcove along the darkened hallway.

"Eeep! …what's wrong, Harry?" she asked, her voice a little high. It was too dark to see her face clearly, but Harry had the distinct impression that she had just licked her lips nervously.

Harry recalled that Hermione's oxford was still partly unbuttoned and he suddenly found himself thanking the darkness from hiding his own discomfort.

"I just saw Professor Trelawney coming this way, and I really don't feel like hearing how I'm going to die again. It would ruin the surprise, you know?" Harry replied in a whisper, his body pressed so tightly to Hermione's that he could swear it was her heart he felt beating unusually fast and not his own thundering one.

Hermione didn't seem to appreciate their predicament though as he could practically feel the waves of contempt rolling off her as she said, not bothering to lower her voice in the slightest, "Why do you let her get to you, Harry? Aside from your own prophecy, you know she's a fraud."

Harry desperately tried to cut her off, gesticulating wildly, but like a drunk cat instinctively coming upon a pair of cornered mice, the menacing smell of sherry wafted towards them followed by hugely magnified eyes and a large hiccup.

"Those who do not possess the inner eye have always been _jealous_." Trelawney said with a large sniff, obviously intoxicated and even a little angered. "I have known since our first encounter, Miss Granger, that you could never respect the noble art of Divination. It is because of students like you that I do not normally stray from my tower."

Hermione snidely commented, "Surely you could have seen us coming then, Professor, and simply avoided this entirely _unpleasant_ affair."

Trying to head off the impending argument, Harry eased the three of them out of the alcove- that now reeked _very_ strongly of alcohol- and pointedly asked Trelawney, "What brought you down here today?"

Focusing with great difficulty on Harry, her obscenely large eyes crossing and uncrossing, Trelawney wrapped her shawl importantly around her shoulders and using what she must have considered her 'mysterious' voice which wasn't much to begin with but even more ridiculous in her drunken state, said, "I had grave tidings, _terrible omens_, that urgently seek release to the Headmaster himself. " And she pulled a card dramatically from underneath her shawls. "_A_ _thundering tower_," she whispered, her eyes, if possible, growing larger still until they looked ready to burst through her glasses. "_Calamity. Disaster_. Coming nearer all the time…"

"Right," said Harry gently, trying to calm the nearly hysterical Trelawney.

Hermione simply scoffed however, setting Trelawney off once more.

"How dare you!" Trelawney huffed haughtily, leaning closer to Hermione, the bottles of sherry clanking under her shawl. "Would someone as great as Dumbledore himself have let me teach at this school, put so much trust in me all these years, had I not proved myself to him?"

Hermione, backing away from the irate Professor in disgust and with a twinge of worry- Trelawney was getting extremely unsteady- stammered, "I'm… sorry?"

Trelawney ignored her and continued imperviously, in throaty tones, "I well remember my first interview with Dumbledore. He was deeply impressed, of course, deeply impressed… I was staying at the Hog's Head, which I do not advise, incidentally- bedbugs- but funds were low. Dumbledore did me the courtesy of calling upon me in my room. He questioned me… I must confess that, at first, I thought he seemed ill-disposed toward Divination…" she glared at Hermione then, daring her to argue the horrors of the subject, but Hermione miraculously managed to hold her tongue. "And I remember I was starting to feel a little odd, I had not eaten much that day… but then…"

Now Harry was really paying attention for he knew that she was describing the night she had made the prophecy that had altered the course of his entire life, the prophecy about him and Voldemort.

"…but then we were rudely interrupted by Severus Snape!"

"WHAT!?" cried Harry in shock.

"What?!" Hermione asked, startled that anything Trelawney had to say could have possibly been important.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, after Harry had sufficiently ranted and even raved a little, the two could be found sitting in front of the fireplace in the abandoned Gryffindor Commons mulling over their discovery.

"Well, Hermione," Harry said sarcastically, "How would _you_ feel if that slimy git were responsible for your parents' deaths!"

Hermione opened her mouth, closed it, and then tried again, much quieter this time. "I'd be more than a little understandably upset." She paused, waiting for him to look at her, and then continued resolutely, her tone cool and calculating, "_But_, I would also try to piece together the clues- all of them," she added, sternly, "before I would rush to any hasty conclusions or any rash acts."

Harry gave a hollow laugh. "Yea! That's me. Always rushing off, doing something rash… getting someone killed…"

SLAP!

Startled, Harry held a hand to his stinging cheek and glared at Hermione.

Hermione glared right back. "You don't get to wallow in your misery right now, Harry," she said, still just as cool and stern as she had been before she'd slapped him hard enough to bring water to his eyes and what he was sure would be a very impressive welt to his cheek. For the briefest of moments he registered that there was no moisture in Hermione's own chocolate eyes, which he thought strange. Hermione was always the one prone to tears. She seemed more angry than anything else at the moment though.

Well, Harry was angry too. He had just found out that the greasy bat who enjoyed torturing him daily at every single opportunity afforded to him, the Death Eater, turn-coat, double, probably triple spy as slick and disloyal as his hair was greasy, was the reason Harry had to miserably live with the Dursley's for so long; the reason Harry had grown up without a mother to comfort him and a father to guide him; the reason Harry was the boy who lived and his parents the ones who died.

"I'll wallow if I bloody want to!" Harry hissed back at her, the flames from the fire before them dancing in his glasses and swirling around heatedly in his stomach.

"No. You're going to listen to me," Hermione said as if speaking to a very small child who was throwing a temper-tantrum. "And then you're going to go up to your room and fetch your Invisibility Cloak for me."

"Strange. I'm not exactly feeling in the mood to traipse around the Castle tonight."

"_For me_. I wouldn't want you coming anyhow."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"You're hardly what I'd consider pleasant company at the moment. Plus, this is something I need to do on my own. It'll make sense tomorrow."

"Good, because it's sure not making much tonight."

"Harry," Hermione tiredly sighed. "The dagger, your infernal potions book, Lupin's reaction to it, and what we just heard tonight are all connected. Can you see the common thread?" She asked sarcastically.

"So you're telling me that the Half-Blood Prince is _Snape_?" Harry bit out slowly, the dreaded knot in his gut telling him she was right. _As usual_.

"I've been looking at old yearbooks in the Library for some clue as to who could have vandalized your book and came across one sallow-faced girl named Eileen Prince."

Harry shook his head derisively. "Tom Riddle and now Severus Snape… Maybe I'm supposed to turn evil too?"

"Not all half-bloods are bad, Harry."

"Yea?" He insolently asked.

"Remus is a pretty good guy."

"But he has that evil, little furry problem to deal with," Harry said lightly, his dark mood beginning to dissipate.

"Well, there's Seamus and Dean…" Hermione suggested slowly, her lips quirking as she leaned closer to him.

"You don't have to live with them, Hermione," Harry reminded, shifting closer to her as he grinned.

"Probably for the best…" Hermione whispered distractedly, her face inching toward his as if spellbound, her eyes half-lidded.

"And why's…." Suddenly Hermione's mouth was pressed firmly against his own and her arms were entwined around his neck as she pulled his head down. Quickly getting over his initial shock, Harry allowed her to do so and loosely planted his hands on either side of her waist, clutching his fingers around the accursed fabric of her un-tucked oxford and dragging her almost into his lap, her skirt riding dangerously up. It was as intense as their first kiss so long ago in that very room, but somehow more chaste, more fleeting, almost desperately so. No tongues, no teeth, just her lips and his clinging to each other's for a few seconds that stretched luxuriously on in the vacuous silence of the large Commons. "…that?" he finished lamely as they broke away.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, their intimate position unchanged, as she gauged his reaction.

Harry was a little unnerved at her calmness. "What was that, Hermione?" He asked hesitantly, his voice a bit unsteady, his earlier anger all but forgotten.

Hermione, aware of Harry's growing panic, shifted her eyes toward the popping flames and said simply, "A kiss."

"Really?" Harry mocked, dropping his hands from her sides and frustratedly running one through his hair. Hermione unlocked her arms from around his neck and sat back primly as though they had just been going over a potion's problem and not snogging. "What about…"

Harry was about to ask about Ron, about what this meant for the three of them… about what they could possibly tell Ron that wouldn't make the red head never speak to them again when Hermione cut him off.

"Ron?" Hermione finished for him. He nodded guiltily. Hermione gave a deep sigh, straightening her uniform and said lowly without making eye contact, "Ron does not own me."

"But…"

"Neither, however, do you."

Harry swallowed. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but you've completely lost me. What are you on about?"

"I'm saying," she said as she stood, "that it was _just_ a kiss, Harry. I _just_ felt like it. There were no strings attached saying I had to forsake Ron or you Ginny. It just was."

"Are you feeling alright?" It was so very unlike Hermione to behave so brazenly- so compulsively. Dear Merlin! Perhaps they really had rubbed off on her…

Hermione just rolled her eyes at his concern however. "I'm sure we're all feeling the pressure of our animagus transformation and the occlumency training, both of which are very taxing magics on the mind, but I'm perfectly lucid, Harry."

"But why are you acting so… so…"

"Ugh! Just go get your cloak and stop over-analyzing everything, Harry! That's my job." Hermione said, yanking him up off the coach and pushing him toward the stairs to the boy's dorm.

Harry dazedly complied and after much tiptoeing around Seamus and Dean's snoring four-posters, made his way back down to Hermione with his shimmery cloak clutched in his hand.

Before he could even open his mouth, not really knowing what to say, but knowing that they probably needed to talk about this, Hermione grabbed the cloak from him and turned on her heel toward the door, called back over her shoulder as she prodded the Fat Lady to swing open, "It'll make sense tomorrow!"

Harry shook his head and watched her go, thinking once again that it sure wasn't making that much tonight.

But, he reminded himself, this _was _Hermione. And he trusted her.

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Hermione looked perfectly normal the next day as Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast, her wild, bushy hair done up in a hasty bun with her wand holding it together. She even smiled as he approached and scooted over to give him room to squeeze in beside her and Demelza. Ginny, Katie, and Ritchie Coote- one of the new Gryffindor team beaters- sitting opposite them.

He shot her a confused look.

"What?" She asked innocently.

"Oh, like you don't know," Harry said, quickly becoming disgruntled and beginning to feel like he was on a muggle roller-coaster. Perhaps the experience wouldn't have been so bad if Dudley and his friends had stopped trying to unbuckle his seatbelt as the ride became inverted, but the nauseous feelings invoked were the same he was experiencing now as he gazed at the usual elaborate breakfast assortment the House Elves cooked up for them every morning.

Harry thought idly of Dobby then and wondered how the House Elf was doing.

"…don't you think, Harry?" Demelza was asking him.

"Oh, err…sorry. What was that?"

Hermione shot him an amused expression as she took a bite out of her toast.

"I was saying," Demelza repeated, slightly irritated with him, "that we should be okay for the match even without Ron, right? I mean, now that we have Katie back…" she winced and looked across the table at Ginny. "I didn't mean that Dean was bad or anything. Just, Katie's…"

"Better," Ginny offered, smirking behind her porridge at Demelza.

The younger girl eyed Ginny appraisingly. "Did something happen between the two of you?"

Ginny glanced at Harry briefly, unsureness and a little bit of a question in her eyes as she turned back to Demelza and answered, "We broke up. Nothing horrid, just differences and whatnot. And I agree with you," she gave Katie a smile beside her, "Dean wasn't bad, but Katie can fly circles around him."

"Thanks Gin," Katie beamed. Though they were two years apart, Katie and Ginny got along famously and loved to practice together when they had time. Harry would often see them competing against each other or just passing the Quaffle back and forth long after regular practice had ended.

"I'm glad you're back on the team too, Katie," Richie added quietly in his low voice. Richie- a light-brown toned fourth year with stringy dark brown hair and a noticeable crush on one unsuspecting Katie Bell- was probably the more accurate of Harry's new beaters, the other being a little over eager and a year younger, but Richie was also painfully shy around girls. Probably the worst Harry had ever seen, and this was including Harry's own awkwardness as well.

"You're so sweet, Richie," Katie said, affectionately patting his frizzy afro, oblivious to the sound of the beater's heart breaking as he realized she only thought of him as a kid.

"I… uh, have to go. Slughorn is having us turn in our droughts today," he said quickly as he gathered his things and nearly fled the Great Hall.

Katie looked around at them confused. "Did I say something wrong?"

Demelza looked as though she wanted to go after Richie, but stopped herself as Ginny stood and told Katie, "About as wrong as announcing the Chudley Cannon's have a shot at the Cup this year," before giving her friend's shoulder a squeeze and jogging after Richie.

Hermione leaned over to Harry and whispered, "See? It could always be worse."

Harry very much doubted this was the case as he had come to a startling conclusion the night before as he had laid sleeplessly on his back, staring up at the drapes that Dumbledore had once set fire to.

Hermione very well might have kissed him last night to end his rage over Snape and get the cloak from him.

It was manipulative, cunning, and more than a little… well, there was no other word for it, _Slytherin_.

He shivered at the thought and turned to her before saying carefully, "You never know."

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Madame Pomfrey wouldn't release Ron until that evening, saying that he had been so stressed that it's a wonder he hadn't just started bleeding in the middle of the corridor.

When they had abandoned a gloomy-faced Ron alone in the hospital wing that morning to further fussing and probing from Madame Pomfrey, and were safely out of earshot, Harry gave Hermione a questioning look.

She just shook her head in the negative and said, "No. Ron definitely ran into the wall."

"You're sure his nose hadn't started bleeding before that, causing him to hit the wall?"

"Everyone thinks differently, Harry. I pointed out that Ron was better at compartmentalizing. This also makes him weaker at focusing on his transformation as your animagus subconscious must be allowed to seep into every aspect of your thoughts."

"So Ron's brain is just having a difficult time processing what to do with the new…err, data?" Harry asked, unsure as they headed towards the Defense Classroom and trying very hard to focus on anything aside from strangling Snape with his bare hands the second the slimey git, the Half-Blooded Prince… _the murderer _decided to swoop into their classroom.

"Essentially, yes." Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder, stopping him before they entered, and forcing him to face her. He was hesitant to meet her eyes, but finally looked up after a few indeterminable moments. "Are you going to be alright today?" She asked, pretending to fleck a bit of dust off his robes as a nosy Pansy Parkinson flitted by, sneering at the two of them.

"I'm not sure," he said honestly.

She looked as though she wanted to hug him but thought better of it and said with a small smile as she tugged on his sleeve, bringing him to their usual desks in the classroom, "I'll try not to let you kill him in front of witnesses."

"Thanks."

"That's what friends are for."

SLAM!

"I'll expect each of your essays on my desk when I reach it. Late work will, of course," Snape said in his customary sneering manner, his droll voice reverberating throughout the chamber as the heavy door slammed behind him and he entered with his normal dramatic flourish, his black robes billowing behind him impressively as though he were on a windy tarmac, "be discarded."

As though the Quaffle had just been released onto the pitch, everyone scrambled to levitate their homework onto his desk before the great bat reached it. Papers were flying haphazardly everywhere and poor Neville ended up with a nasty paper-cut across his forehead when he foolishly attempted to just bring his paper to the front.

Harry got his essay in right under Hermione's and shot her a triumphant look that she just rolled her eyes at. –"The important thing is that we got them in on time," she had stated pedantically.

But as Snape took up the papers, waving his wand lazily as those still soaring toward him so that they ended up flying right into the waste, and began flipping through the essays, his fingers magically pulled out the one paper Harry recognized.

Because it was of course, the one that he had spent the last two weeks working on.

"What's this, Potter?" Snape growled, narrowing his eyes at Harry and waving the parchment about as though it smelled of bad eggs.

"My assignment, _Sir_," Harry practically spat. Hermione was sitting rigidly next to him and grabbed his sleeve warningly.

Without even bothering to look at it, Snape cast it into the waste. The rest of the class was looking between the two anxiously, unsure of the abnormally heightened hatred between the two that morning. The Gryffindors looking shocked- well, as shocked as they could be. Snape always treated Harry like dirt- and the Slytherins divided between gleeful attention and confused glances amongst themselves. Strangely enough, Malfoy wasn't grinning in delight. Instead, he was just reclined back in his seat, watching the entire exchange as though he were bored nearly to tears.

Snape curled his lip at Harry, daring him to say something.

Hermione's fingernails dug into his arm almost painfully through his robe, telling him not to take the bait.

Harry didn't want to take the bait and he certainly didn't want to say anything to Snape so he forcibly pried Hermione's hand off his arm, glared coldly at the overgrown bat and stood up from his chair. As calmly as he was able to under the circumstances, Harry gathered his things and, turning his back on Snape's enraged hook-nosed features, he made his way to the door to get out of there before he would do something he'd really regret.

He wasn't sure where he'd go- Dumbledore had been gone a lot lately, searching for any clues to the whereabouts of the remaining Horcruxes- but he knew anyplace was better at that moment than the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

But just as his hand was about to close over the handle to the door, Snape silkily murmured, "I don't recall dismissing you, Potter."

Harry took a deep, calming breath before he turned around and grounded out evenly, "I won't sit in here and take this." he gave a particularly malevolent glare at Snape, loudly begging him to use legilimency and hear the 'MURDERER MURDERER MURDERER' tape playing incessantly in Harry's mind.

"You seem to be laboring under the…" Snape considered for a moment, then went on, "_impression_ that you have a choice in the matter. Let me assure…" Snape strode over to Harry, so close that Harry could see the deep blackness of his eyes and the contempt prickled around his lips as he regarded Harry with the utmost disgust. "You have none."

Harry could feel Snape invade the outer limits of his mind, probing, no doubt, for something to attack Harry with. Harry continued to play his tape and watched as Snape's eyes widened for the briefest of moments.

Snape quickly withdrew from his mind and regarded him silently for several seconds, the rest of the class eyeing the two wordlessly. Harry would have preferred their whispering than the absolute silence that was beginning to undo him.

"Go up to the front, Potter," Snape commanded suddenly before making his way to his two-sided chalkboard where notes from the previous lesson still littered the front.

Harry cautiously made his way to the clearing in the front of the classroom, his eyes tensed on Snape and ready for anything. He didn't think Snape would curse him in class, but the slimy git had been more unstable than usual that day and Harry wouldn't put anything past him. He fingered the Phoenix-feathered wand in his pocket reassuringly and nodded that he was okay to Hermione as he passed her.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said as though the name were something vile and contagious, "has so kindly offered to demonstrate our lesson for today. Turn to page two hundred and eighty-five."

Harry watched silently from the front as everyone grudgingly pulled out their Advanced Defense Books and flipped to the right page. Hermione's mouth formed an, 'oh my' as she found the spot and her hand quickly rose.

Snape casually glanced in her direction, "Ten points from Gyffindor."

No one even asked for what, but Hermione slowly lowered her hand, looking nervously at Harry.

"The lesson topic for today is healing charms and spells in the thick of a duel or in all out combat situations," Snape murmured, eying the students in the back briefly before rounding on Harry. "Many of the wounds inflicted sever the flesh. While it would be most preferable to use a magically-endowed blade here today for demonstrative purposes…"

Harry paled. No wonder Snape was being especially vile! He thought they had stolen his dagger…which, to be fair, they sort of had. Remus had mentioned that he'd try to sneak the blade back to Snape as quickly as possible, but he must not have had a chance yet.

"…any sharp object just lying around should be sufficient," Snape said, his black eyes practically glowing with the promise of causing Harry pain.

Harry unconsciously took a step back as Hermione's arm literally flew into the air, waving wildly.

Highly annoyed, Snape grudgingly turned to her. "_Yes_, Miss Granger?" he hissed with barely contained hostility.

"It's against the Hogwart's code of ethics for Professors to knowingly endanger or inflict torture upon students without direct authorization from the Headmaster," she said breathlessly, the entire class awaiting Snape's impending explosion.

He did not disappoint.

"Fifty points from Gyffindor!" Snape snarled, looking at Hermione as though she were a particularly obstinate flobberworm dripping bubotuber pus on the sleeve of a screaming banshee. "For your insolence, Miss Granger."

Hermione's face reddened and Seamus could be heard in the back muttering, "That's rubbish!" but not too loudly of course. Nearly all of the Gryffindors were in agreement though and Snape quickly realized he was dealing with a possible mutiny if he persisted.

Violently glaring at Harry, Snape waved his arm dismissively. "You may go back to your seat, Potter, with compliments of detention this Saturday."

Almost like he'd just been punched in the gut, Harry staggered and limply made his way back to his chair beside Hermione. Snape was forcing him to miss his last Quidditch game…

Hermione, knowing this, gave him a sympathetic look but whispered urgently as Snape went on with his lecture and had turned back to his two-sided chalkboard, "Harry!"

Harry wearily raised his chin and watched bleakly as Snape flipped the board over, preparing to spell-cast the outline of his lecture as was his typical custom. Students were expected to fill in the outline to the degree they wanted to succeed in the class. Hermione normally had a hefty book of notes by the time their Defense period was over.

But this day, this horrible day, as Snape flipped the board over, there was something already on the other side. Something Snape had obviously not been expecting by the clank of his wand as it struck the hard, cold floor, the sound echoing magnificently.

Elegantly resting against the green backdrop of the board was a beautiful white flower, probably stuck there using a sticking charm. Under it, was a single line in smooth, flowing cursive that read, 'For all sad thoughts of my death and your sin, the saddest of all is what might have been.'

No one moved, no one breathed. It was as if they had all been buried alive and were hesitant to take up any of the remaining oxygen.

With his back to the class, Snape whispered, so quietly that even in the oppressive stillness, they had to strain their ears to listen, "Dismissed."

When no one moved, Snape whirled around, his face livid and screamed, "I WILL NOT TOLERATE STUDENTS BREAKING IN, STEALING, AND LEAVING MESSAGES FOR THEIR FRIENDS IN MY CLASS!! GET OUT NOW!!"

Like the floodwater had broken, students couldn't seem to gather their belongings fast enough to get out of the chamber and out of Snape's way. Harry and Hermione fled like the wind, and for a brief, light-headed moment, Harry felt his bones go weightless as he ran.

For one fleeting instant as they rushed out the door, Harry thought he might have seen a tear run down Snape's sallow cheek.

They stopped to catch their breath once they were safely in the Transfiguration corridor, McGonagall's disapproving look at their having run in the hallways, Harry strangely found comforting.

"That was what you did last night, wasn't it?" Harry asked needlessly to Hermione as he straightened up, glad for his Quidditch conditioning.

She nodded wordlessly, still too out of breath to reply.

"What could you possibly have been hoping to accomplish?!" Harry fumed.

"What type," Hermione panted, "of flower was it?"

"You're the one who… oh." Harry said at last, finally understanding the significance. "…It was a lily."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Give it up Hermione, there's no way you can convince me that his reaction means what you think it does," Harry said firmly as they headed toward the Great Hall for supper that night. Ron was probably waiting for them there already, his first chance of the day to get some real food actually assuring that Ron couldn't be found anywhere else.

"I've been telling you all along that Professor Snape knew your mother," Hermione said eagerly. "He must have loved her, or at least strongly fancied or cared about her by the way that anything that reminds him of her brings him such pain. I'll bet that when he found out that Voldemort had killed Lily because of what he'd heard at the Hog's Head, the agony of knowing he was responsible for her death- the one thing he'd ever really cared about- was too much. The reason he became a spy for the Order, the reason that Dumbledore is always so sure where his allegiance really lies, is that Snape loved Lily."

Harry scoffed, unable to believe the romantic beetledung spewing from Hermione's mouth- about _Snape_ of all people.

"I'm serious! And also when you consider the prophecy, there's no way of knowing who it referred to. He had no way of knowing he was condemning her when he told Voldemort of it."

"I know you're serious. That's why this is so ridiculous. I mean, come on, Hermione. Snape and _my_ mum?! He called her a mudblood for crying out loud!"

"I don't care. Ron calls me hateful things all the time, and I know that he still…"

"Shhh…" Harry hissed, putting a finger to her mouth, and listening intently for the noise he'd heard coming from the chamber to their left, the Girl's bathroom on the Second Floor.

"It's not Trelawney again, is it?" Hermione whispered fearfully.

"No, it's coming from Myrtle's Bathroom."

Hermione listened for a minute and them harrumphed. "It's just sobbing. That's all she ever does in there, really."

Harry shook his head. "No, that's not Myrtle crying."

Harry very quietly eased the door open.

Inside, there was none other than Draco Malfoy standing with his back to the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, and his platinum head bowed.

"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't… tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"

"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it…I can't…It won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me…"

Harry stood rooted to his spot by the door, barely able to comprehend the tears Malfoy was shedding, so great was his shock at the sight of it. What were the odds of Harry witnessing both Snape and Malfoy crying on the same day? But an elbow to the ribs brought him out of it. Harry glared to his side at Hermione but she was mouthing, "See?" and pointed towards Draco who was really crying now, tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin.

Harry remembered her stupid idea about Malfoy, and suddenly felt extremely flushed, as though his entire insides had heated by several degrees.

Malfoy gasped and gulped then, before giving a great shudder and looking up into the cracked mirror to see Harry and Hermione staring at him over his shoulder.

Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own and felt Hermione do the same beside him. Malfoy's hex missed them by inches, shattering the ceramic lamp on the wall beside them and spraying both Hermione and himself with a fine layer of dust. Harry threw himself sideways and scrambled for a decent hex he could throw at Malfoy, one of Snape's nasty inventions automatically springing to his mind, but before he could even ponder casting it, Hermione flicked her wand his way and he felt _Petrificus Totalus _freeze every muscle in his body.

Not knowing what to think, everyone stopped: Harry trying to glare at Hermione's betrayal, but having difficulty moving his eyes, Draco frozen mid-wand movement as he dumbly regarded Harry rolled on his side, trapped on the ground, and Hermione, holding her wand up non-threateningly and advancing slowly toward Draco. Even Moaning Mrytle had stopped screaming, watching curiously what Hermione would do next.

Draco stayed poised and tensed to hex her as she cautiously neared him, whispering soothingly, "It's alright, we know what you're up against, Malfoy. You're not a bad person."

Draco arched a brow at her, clearly wondering if she was for real, his face a strange mixture of amusement and loathing, but Harry noticed that he wasn't cursing her.

Yet.

Harry definitely wasn't about to believe that Malfoy would give up so easily, or even if everything Hermione believed was true, that Malfoy would listen to someone he detested so much. Harry frantically tried to scream at Hermione to stop lowering her wand but she continued to, peacefully setting it down on the ground about ten feet from him, showing that she was disarmed.

As soon as her wand was on the floor however, Draco looked up into Hermione's face and sneered.

"That was probably the stupidest thing you've ever done, Mudblood." he said, seemingly disappointed with her before he aimed his wand and cried, "_Cru…"_


	14. Canis

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Canis**

_Disclaimer: I own not. All is the property of J.K. Rowling and I thank her for letting me play in her world and with her wonderfully colorful characters. _

_A/N: Huge thanks to absolutely everyone who reviewed. I appreciate hearing your concerns and what you liked and did not. I make no claims of writing for profit, but I would like to make my story as good as it can possibly be. That being said, I hope all of you will continue to give this story a try and provide me with your feedback. Big thanks to my beta Riddledw. Hope you enjoy, Cheers! ~HorseLoverTW_

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"_It's alright, we know what you're up against, Malfoy. You're not a bad person." _

_Draco arched a brow at her, clearly wondering if she was for real, his face a strange mixture of amusement and loathing, but Harry noticed that he wasn't cursing her. _

_Yet. _

_Harry definitely wasn't about to believe that Malfoy would give up so easily, or even if everything Hermione believed was true, that Malfoy would listen to someone he detested so much. Harry frantically tried to scream at Hermione to stop lowering her wand but she continued to, peacefully setting it down on the ground about ten feet from him, showing that she was disarmed. _

_As soon as her wand was on the floor however, Draco looked up into Hermione's face and sneered. _

"_That was probably the stupidest thing you've ever done, Mudblood." he said, seemingly disappointed with her before he aimed his wand and cried, "Cru…"_

"Eeep!!" Hermione yelped as she dove to the side, showing far greater agility than Harry would have ever given her credit for.

Malfoy began to advance on her and fired off another _Crucio_ as Hermione doggedly rolled to the side, once again narrowly avoiding the Unforgivable.

Harry was frantic inside, near hysterics at being unable to help Hermione, forced as he was to watch in terror as they continued their cat and mouse game. His heart was beating so quickly he feared that he might die before Hermione could release him.

"You don't think I'm a bad person, eh Granger?" Malfoy asked contemptuously, spitting out her surname as Snape would Harry's, as he finally managed to corner her next to the stall that Moaning Myrtle was continuing to shriek from. Hermione shuffled backward on the tiled floor, her back making a resounding 'THUMP' as it hit the stall door. She looked up at Malfoy in wild-eyed panic, her breathing quickened and her robes scuffed and damaged. Malfoy leaned down so his face was level with hers and whispered just loud enough for Harry to hear in a voice laced with steel, "You have no idea what I'm capable of," and then he raised his wand to fire another _Crucio_ but before the curse could leave his lips, Moaning Myrtle flew into his face and screamed, "LEAVE HER ALONE!!"

Malfoy really had no choice but to comply, for it is extremely difficult to give the concentration necessary for one of the Unforgivables when you have a ghost screaming and madly waving her arms through your head.

But Myrtle wasn't finished yet.

The ghostly eyes behind her glasses began to tear up as though a faucet had been turned and soon she was bawling so badly that Malfoy surely would have been soaked had the tears been corporeal. She flung her arms around the Slytherin's neck and buried her face halfway through his chest, sobbing, "Not…here!" She gave a strangled hiccup. "I don't know why you're being so… so… mean, Draco!" Her sniff echoed through Malfoy's chest, "But you better… better not hurt her because I'll… I'll never sp…speak to you again!"

Harry didn't think this was a terribly good threat, but Malfoy, who had stiffened when Myrtle wrapped herself around him, was now gingerly wrapping his arms around her, or making the effort to do so as there was nothing there to actually hold.

He hesitated and then said softly, his voice a little petulant, "But the filthy little know-it-all is going to ruin everything… he'll kill me if Potter and the Mudblood tell…"

He was speaking as if Hermione wasn't in front of him at all, staring in shocked horror at the exchange. So completely was he ignoring her, that Malfoy didn't even seem to notice when Hermione edged back a bit further and slid under the stall door.

Harry was watching her intently, and wondered idly why Hermione would freeze before the toilet, stare down into the water and then firmly shake her head before rolling under the stall divisions and out onto the other side.

"STOP SAYING THAT WORD!!" Myrtle screamed again, dislodging herself from Malfoy's chest and glaring at him as fiercely as she could with the translucent tears still clinging to her puffed-up cheeks and running freely down to her 1940s vintage robes.

Seeming to crumple in on himself in exhaustion, Malfoy sighed, "But she is what she is, and no high marks or famous friends can ever change that."

"No," Myrtle whispered, fury almost making her seem to glow somehow, "Not even _death _can change that."

Malfoy flinched.

"I…" he sputtered, clearly at a loss for what to say. "I didn't mean…"

Myrtle sniffed primly and flew into the air above him. "Who would ever mean to hurt poor, ugly moping, moaning Myrtle," she said haughtily, but her trembling bottom lip ruined the effect. "I'm just a ghost, a stupid MUDBLOOD ghost!" she continued, her voice rising, "What could I possibly feel?" she screeched before zooming off into her cubicle with a splash.

Malfoy didn't get up from where he was kneeling but continued to stare at where she had disappeared.

Hermione slowly picked up her wand and released Harry before walking up behind Malfoy, her wand trained on his back.

He turned at hearing her footsteps and his eyes glanced in Harry's direction as he saw Harry shakily get to his feet and approach as well. He shook his head at Hermione, his jaw clinched.

Hermione lowered her wand to her side once more, making Harry practically roll his eyes as he rushed to hex Malfoy before he could curse her, but Malfoy just continued to shake his head, the tears from earlier looking as though they might make a comeback appearance and his pointed face so strained that veins were becoming prominent along his forehead and neck.

He finally released a breath, the redness draining from his face like sand through an hourglass until he was nearly as white as the tile at his feet. His voice, colder than the winter winds of Scotland and more fragile than the vegetation that seeks to sustain itself against them, softly drafted, "I don't want you dead."

Hermione's brown eyes widened a bit and she gave a tight nod. Harry stayed frozen where he was, this time without the aid of a spell, and stood transfixed as Malfoy continued, "I don't want anyone dead."

Hermione leaned down so that she was on his level, much as he had before, but instead of threatening, she calmly stared into his conflicted face and murmured, "Then there is, in fact, one thing that you and I have in common."

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"Bloody hell…" Ron muttered as he, astonishingly, pushed his plate away. "And you just left the git there?"

"What other choice did we have?" Harry asked, staring sourly at his half-eaten roast mutton and wishing like crazy that Dumbledore would appear suddenly in his chair at the head table.

Hermione hadn't eaten much either after they had left the girl's bathroom and joined Ron in the Great Hall. "It isn't as though we could force him to believe us or to accept help," Hermione uttered as she idly swirled her peas, lost in thought.

"And when did it become _our_ job to offer _Malfoy_, of all people, help!?" Ron hissed across the table to Hermione.

But before she could try to mollify Ron, Harry laid a quieting hand on his enraged friend's arm and said uncompromisingly, "If anyone has the right to lose it with Hermione's actions at the moment, it would be me."

Looking rather guilty and resuming with the rearrangement of her peas, Hermione quietly inquired, "And why aren't you, Harry?"

He paused for a moment, and then said carefully, "Because if you hadn't paralyzed me, I would most likely be regretting my actions right now or stuck in the hospital wing, having to deal with Madame Pomfrey fretting over for about the millionth time." Hermione finally looked up at him, mildly surprised by this admission, and he met her gaze, locking onto her eyes and willing her to understand that while he hated what she did to him, he understood it, and he was proud of her for her bravery.

And strangely enough, he really was.

As Slytherin as her kiss the night before may or may not have been, her actions tonight redeemed the Sorting Hat's decision to place her in Gryffindor. It took a great deal of courage for her to stop him from cursing Malfoy and an even greater amount of faith and belief in the good in everyone, even snake's like Malfoy, for her to drop her defenses and try to save the git from himself.

But, this didn't mean that she was completely forgiven. Harry still wanted to know what that kiss had been about and wanted more explanation for Hermione's actions in the bathroom. With present company however, the former would have to wait.

"What were you planning on doing if Malfoy actually agreed to our help?"

"Err… I hadn't exactly worked out the finer details, but I envisioned something along the lines of going to Dumbledore and asking him to get the Order involved to protect Draco and his mom. The same idea I had the night we drank our Stuyvesants."

Harry thought it best that they not remind her that that particular idea had been shot down to pieces that same night.

Grumpy that he'd missed everything, Ron sullenly asked, "And what about the ferret's slimy father?"

"There's not much that can be done about Lucius while he's in Azkaban. The dementors are under Voldemort's- oh stop it Ron!- thumb and I think even Draco would have to acknowledge the difficulty of getting to him."

"What about…" and Harry paused here, wondering if he had merely been seeing things, "What about when you managed to sneak under the stall door; I saw from the floor how you sort of…deliberated…in front of the toilet for a moment before going on. What was that about, Hermione?"

Her cheeks flushed red and she looked both ways down the table before leaning over and whispering embarrassedly, "I…uh…had the strangest urge to… well, um…drink from…"

Ron snorted, "You wanted to drink from the toilet!?"

Hermione heaved a sigh and dropped her forehead to the table, narrowly avoiding the plate of carrots to her right, and mumbled, "…yes."

Harry petted her bushy head awkwardly and glared at Ron for a second, telling him to knock it off before he leaned toward her and whispered, "Sirius was a dog and it proved really useful for him. I'm sure you're not going to want to drink out of the toilet and chase cats all the time…"

Well, actually he wasn't so sure. The image of Hermione wearing a hideous collar and whimpering up at him as he dragged her around with a leash through the Common Room trying to get her to stop barking at Crookshanks would probably nightmarishly occur again that night as he slept, but he had to say something. She seemed so mortified.

Quickly, he realized that petting her head probably wasn't the smartest thing to do under the circumstances and withdrew it.

Hermione slowly raised her face, anxiety written all over it like so many words on a parchment, and asked hesitantly, "May I have some of your mutton, Harry?"

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Far stranger than Hermione's animagus form turning out to be a dog of some sort, was what happened in Defense later that week.

Not knowing how volatile Snape would be after Hermione had 'planted' the lily on his board and forced him to confront his rather greasy emotions on the issue, the trio very cautiously entered the Defense classroom and took their seats, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible when Snape swooped in.

Only, he didn't swoop in like the giant bat he was. Instead, he just walked in, laid his papers on his desk and said, even forsaking his usual dark murmur, "Today we will be going over what we missed last time," and here Harry nearly flinched, expecting Snape to glare his way and throw him physically out of class. However, Snape didn't even look in the trio's direction as he went on, writing- yes, Snape was _writing_- on the board, "The fundamentals of appropriate healing spells to use while in dangerous situations."

He then turned back to the class and all of the students, minus Draco who was suspiciously absent, recoiled, expecting him to begin picking on Harry or even Neville with his usual interrogation and bullying.

Only, once again, Snape surprised them all by simply asking, rather openly, to the entire classroom, "Can anyone name for me a good spell to use when you have just been on the receiving end of a laceration and are unable to see a Mediwitch?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a confused look. Hermione slowly raised her hand in the air, bracing herself for a trap, and said, "Episkey, Sir. Or, if you lack the concentration to mend the skin while under duress, a simple Ferula would suffice so you could at least cover the wound."

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for Snape to deduct points or offer some degrading remark about Hermione's insufferable know-it-all-ness making her somehow related to the Giant Squid or such, but Snape's frighteningly nonchalant mood continued as he regarded her blankly for a second and then said matter of factly, "Very good, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor."

And then, almost making Harry fall out of his chair from sheer astonishment, Snape _winked_ at them. He really winked! It was the most unnerving thing Harry had ever witnessed in his life; even counting the first time he'd seen Voldemort spring out from under the turban of Professor Quirrel.

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The lesson was an amazingly good one. Students were given cushions that they would banish toward their partner who would then aim one of the many spells they had learned over the course of the semester at. Once the cushions were sufficiently 'injured,' the first partner would try a healing spell on it while their partner tried to disarm them.

Harry silently cast _Sectumsempra_ at the green cushion that Ron flew his way and the thing immediately ripped in several sections, its stuffing going everywhere. Ron hadn't been too pleased as he tried to gather it all up into one heap and repair it. Harry glanced at Snape before quickly casting a _Reparo _and telling Ron he'd use a different spell next time. What he now knew to be Snape's Sectumsempra curse was not to be used lightly. He knew that now and felt another rush of gratitude towards Hermione's actions the previous night.

When class was dismissed and everyone began gathering their things to leave, unusually excited about the day's lesson and completely perplexed at Snape's transformation, Snape came up to the trio's table and said silkily, "You three will wait. I need to have a word."

Harry sighed. He knew it had been too good to be true.

Once all the other students had vacated, Snape turned to them and asked, "Seen any fire hydrants lately, Hermione?"

She gasped. "Remus… is that _you_?!"

Ron's eyes widened incredibly and Harry's jaw dropped.

Snape- or rather Lupin- just smiled. Instead of his usual sneer, Snape's face was giving a genuine smile, which still looked remarkably creepy coming from him, and nodded. Harry noticed for the first time since seeing Snape that the Professor's normally greasy locks were clean and his black eyes had the tiniest trace of amber to them, like a werewolf's eyes- which was something that no one could really fake.

"What are you doing polyjuiced like Professor Snape?" Hermione hissed as though chastising a second year for being out after curfew.

"I'm afraid Professor Snape had to be elsewhere at the moment and it was of the utmost urgency that no one was the wiser. Dumbledore gave me the lesson plan and a vile of Polyjuice that Severus himself had brewed and asked me to fill in."

"So this doesn't have anything to do with what happened during our last lesson with Snape?" Harry asked.

"I have no idea what you're referring to Harry, so I can't say it has nothing to do with it, but Dumbledore is back in his office now and requested to meet with all three of you."

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It was disconcerting, to say the least, striding down the hallway next to Lupin in Snape's form.

Ron had begged Lupin to flirt with Professor Trelawney while in Snape's shoes but Remus flatly refused, especially after the Witch herself came upon them and gave Snape a sherry glazed look.

"Are we still having our lesson tonight in the Room of Requirement?" Hermione asked out of the corner of her mouth as they passed a curious group of fourth and fifth year Slytherins. Astoria Greengrass, the little sister of Daphne Greengrass- one of Pansy's followers- waved to Snape, but Lupin was too distracted by the question to notice and Astoria stared after them, puzzled that her favorite teacher would ignore her in favor of the Gryffindor Golden Trio.

"Yes, I see no reason not to," he replied after giving it some thought. "Especially considering the propensity of your transformation occurring tonight." Lupin/Snape turned to Harry and Ron and asked, "Have either of you two had any further clues as to the identity of your animagus forms?"

Both Harry and Ron suddenly found the Corridor's floor to be very interesting.

Hermione eyed them with some measure of sympathy before whispering, "Ron had to go to the Hospital Wing from the strain of concentrating on his and Harry… well…"

"It's alright, Hermione," Harry said as he faced Lupin/Snape. Ron was glaring at Hermione, but only half-heartedly. "I just haven't had much luck."

"Maybe the hints you experienced when you drank the Stuyvesant were too ambiguous for you to be able to focus much on?" Hermione added helpfully.

Lupin considered it, thoughtfully rubbing Snape's chin as he did so, and said, "You said it was the speed you felt more than anything, correct?"

"Err… yea?"

"The feeling of going fast is a sensation. Have there been any other sensations you've felt recently that weren't entirely natural?"

Harry thought of his irregularly fast heartbeat when he was trapped on the floor of the girl's bathroom and of the odd feeling of weightlessness in his bones when he'd been fleeing Snape's class the other day. There were others too…

Lupin stared at him knowingly, Snape's unusually clean, dark hair framing the werewolf's peculiar eyes. But before more could be said on the matter, the gargoyles that stood sentry before Dumbledore's office were regarding them wearily and demanding the password.

"Acid Pops," Snape's velvety voice proclaimed from Lupin as the gargoyles leapt aside and allowed the quartet to enter the ascending, winding staircase.


	15. The Adventure Begins

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**The Adventure Begins**

_Disclaimer: I own not. All is the property of J.K. Rowling and I thank her for letting me play in her world and with her wonderfully colorful characters. _

_A/N: Huge thanks for everyone that reviewed. As always, I apologize for the delay, but with summer, I'm optimistic that I can finish the events of book six soon. I regret to say that a lot of this chapter came strait from Half-Blood Prince, but it was necessary for the plot. Thanks again for everyone who's kept up with this story and especially those that have taken the time to offer their feedback. Hope you enjoy! Cheers! ~HorseLoverTW_

As the four of them shuffled into the crowded Head Office, Fawkes the phoenix looked around, his bright black eyes gleaming with reflected gold from the sunset beyond the windows. Dumbledore was standing at the window looking out at the grounds, a long, black traveling cloak in his arms.

"Ah, thank you, Remus," Dumbledore sighed as he turned to face them, his wizened eyes wearily settling on the boy who lived. "Well, Harry, I promised that you could come with me, but I regret I may have to amend my promise somewhat."

Harry's heart sped up, beginning to throb like a hummingbird's. "You've found one? You've found a Horcrux?"

"I believe so."

Confusion and resentment fought shock and excitement. "But why can't I go with you, Sir?" He finally asked, in a voice so tiny, it might have come from a child instead of a sixteen year old Wizard.

Dumbledore waved his hand and four comfy red chairs appeared. Ron, Hermione, and Remus quickly sat, but Harry remained standing, his petulance getting the best of him.

Dumbledore sighed once more and in an uncharacteristic display of fragility, ran his dead hand over his face, the decades of experience and adventures seeping through the decayed flesh like water down a river until all that was left before them was a tired old man.

"You misunderstand me, Harry. It is I who will not be accompanying you on your quest."

Shocked, Harry finally fell into his chair, the deep cushioning not helping to absorb the tidal wave of thoughts and questions spinning through his mind.

Remus broke the tense silence, his face now somewhere between the Werewolf's normal façade and that of the absent Potions Master as the effects of the Polyjuice began to diminish. "Did something happen, Albus?"

"While on his assignment, Severus…" and Dumbledore hesitated here, gauging as he did how much should be revealed to this particular audience, not all of who, even with the diligence of Professor Lupin, could successfully withstand Legilimens. He stared deeply into the faces of the three students, taking them one at a time before he shot Remus a swift look of amusement. "Very clever, Remus. You've made them almost unreadable with their Animagus studies."

Remus smiled, and the Golden Trio breathed a quick sigh, for it was once again fully Remus Lupin that sat smiling next to them. "It was a side affect I thought might prove useful."

"Indeed. As I was saying, Severus came across some rather astounding news as to the form and whereabouts of another Horcrux I had only begun to fathom."

Hermione spoke up. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't understand why this would prevent you from going with us to retrieve the Horcrux you already know the whereabouts to."

"Ah, brilliant as ever, my dear. No, you're correct, I have yet to unveil that precious bit of knowledge because therein lies our dilemma." He paused before Fawkes and stoked the phoenix' head gently. "Tom and his followers are on the move tonight, and I fear that they too will be moving on the intel Severus has gathered, very shortly."

"Doesn't… err…he must not be…" Ron took a deep breath and then, very quickly let it out with a rush, the name 'Voldemort' possibly in his quick exhale, "Already sort of know where he hid his soul bits?"

"You are correct, Mr. Weasley, but unfortunately for Tom, his Horcruxes, though magnificently hidden and guarded as they are, do not always remain as such. In the back of his mind, I'm sure he is constantly plagued by the doubt that their defenses have been compromised." Dumbledore lifted his dead hand. "Especially as of late."

"So what's your plan tonight, Sir? If Voldemort is on the move, we should be as well," Harry urged, his resolve causing the others to look at him with some surprise.

Dumbledore, seemingly never surprised by anything, quickly answered, "I will go to the Ministry and obtain the information about the Horcrux related to Rowena Ravenclaw that Voldemort is searching for there. You four will obtain the Horcrux we already have the location to while Voldemort is distracted in London."

"But Sir! You can't use yourself as a decoy!" Hermione cried, her bushy hair crackling in the dry office with the terror ravishing her thoughts. "You'll be outnumbered and on your own. You'll be in terrible danger!"

"Not," Dumbledore said in a quieting voice, his brilliant blue eyes trained on Hermione's, "As on my own as the four of you will be. London is a vast city and has many friends to the Order, not to mention Grimmauld Place itself, to retreat back to should something go awry."

"I'm not sure I can willingly allow you to risk yourself like this, Albus," Remus said with a shake of his gray peppered hair.

"And instead allow our trio here to retrieve the Horcrux on their own? Very noble of you, Remus," Dumbledore said lightly, but the point was made and Remus numbly nodded, the conflict making him frown so horribly, he looked as if he really might still have some of Snape in him.

"Now, to business," Dumbledore said, his tone brokering no interruptions. "I am not sure which Horcrux you will be dealing with- though I think we can safely rule out the snake and Ravenclaw's- but I believe it to be hidden in a cave on the coast many miles from here, a cave I have been trying to locate for a very long time: the cave in which Tom Riddle once terrorized two children from his orphanage on their annual trip; you remember, Harry?"

"Yes," said Harry. "How is it protected?"

"I do not know; I have suspicions that may be entirely wrong." Dumbledore hesitated, then said, "It would be very wrong of me not to warn you four that this will be exceedingly treacherous."

"We're going," Hermione assured, almost before Dumbledore had finished speaking. The earlier look of anguish at the risk their Headmaster was taking was replaced by a steely determination. Harry, Ron, and Remus looked at her with some degree of shock, while Dumbledore moved away from Fawkes and looked more closely at her, a slight crease between his silver eyebrows.

"What has happened to you?" He asked her quietly, so quietly that Harry wasn't even sure he had really spoken.

Hermione stared back at him coldly. "I came to a realization… of sorts," she said stiffly, her face shadowed by a strange combination of rage and deep, heartfelt sorrow.

"Well, by all means, Miss Granger, please share with the rest of us this revelation as the only thing I can gather from your thoughts at the moment are how you would very much like to bark out my window at the thestrals in the distance."

Hermione finally broke her stare, turning her face away from all of them as a solitary tear trickled silently down her cheek. "You've already decided, Sir," she whispered hoarsely, "I just hope we're both right about him."

"About who?" Ron asked as he glanced confusedly between the two.

"Snape!" Harry said, very loudly, and Fawkes gave a soft squawk behind them. "Snape's the one they're on about! They're putting all of their faith in the slimy git that told Voldemort about the prophecy. It was him, he listened outside the door, Trelawney told me!"

Dumbledore's expression did not change, but Harry thought his face whitened under the bloody tinge cast by the setting sun. For a long moment, Dumbledore said nothing. "When did you find out about this?" he asked at last.

"Several days ago," said Harry, who was refraining from yelling with enormous difficulty. "And you let him teach here when he was the one that told Voldemort to go after my mum and dad?" Harry must have sounded so hurt, that a moment later, he found Ron's hand comfortingly placed over his shoulder, his friend offering a support beam that Harry didn't even know he so greatly needed at the moment.

"Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "Please listen to me."

Harry bit his lip, willing himself to comply, and looked into Dumbledore's lined face.

"Professor Snape made a terrible…"

"Don't tell me it was a mistake, sir, he was listening at the door!"

"Please let me finish." Dumbledore waited until Harry had nodded curtly, then went on. "Professor Snape made a terrible mistake. He was still in Lord Voldemort's employ on the night he heard the first half of Professor Trelawney's prophecy. Naturally, he hastened to tell his master what he had heard, for it concerned his master most deeply. But he did not know- he had no possible way of knowing- which boy Voldemort would hunt from then onward, or that the parents he would destroy in his murderous quest were people that Professor Snape knew, that they were your mother and father…"

Harry let out a yell of mirthless laughter. "Please save it, sir. I've heard it all from Hermione. But what the two of you fail to see, in your blinding romanticism of a man who's as oily on the inside as he is on the outside, was Snape's absolute hatred for my dad. Just like his hatred for Sirius. Have the two of you ever noticed," Harry turned sharply from Dumbledore to Hermione and then back, "That the people Snape hates tend to end up dead?"

"You have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realized how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry. I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life and the reason that he returned…"

"But he's a very good Occlumens, isn't he, sir?" said Harry, whose voice was shaking with the effort of keeping it steady. "And isn't Voldemort convinced that Snape's on his side, even now? Professor…how can you be sure that Snape really loved my mum? That her death assured his allegiance with the Order? What if he's using your faith in love and friendship to twist your view of him? To hide his real allegiance."

Dumbledore did not speak for a moment; he looked as though he was struggling to examine the fathoms of the complex piece of work that was Severus Snape, to sort out any clues that would lead to a definitive answer. At last, resolute, he said, "I am sure. I trust Severus completely."

Harry breathed deeply for a few moments in an effort to steady himself. It did not work. "Well, I don't. He's up to something with Draco Malfoy, using him for something, right under your nose."

"We've discussed this, Harry," Dumbledore said, now sounding stern. "And I have told you my views."

"But we're leaving the school tonight, aren't you worried about them trying something?"

"Enough," Dumbledore said. He said it quite calmly, and yet Harry fell silent at once; he knew that he had finally crossed some invisible line. "Do you think that I have once left the school unprotected during my absences this year? I have not. Tonight, when we leave, there will again be additional protection in place. Please do not suggest that I do not take the safety of my students seriously, Harry."

"I didn't…" mumbled Harry, a little abashed, but Dumbledore cut across him.

"I do not wish to discuss the matter any further. A guest will be coming to my office in just a few minutes, and it is imperative that you be gone and on your way by that time." He looked at the three sixth years, his penetrating eyes seemed to examine their very souls. "Do you still wish to go tonight?"

"Yes," said Harry and Hermione at once, while Ron vigorously nodded his head in the affirmative.

"Very well, then: Listen." Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height. "I let you go on two conditions: that you obey any command Remus gives you, at once, and that you, Remus," Remus looked up sharply, "Obey any wisdom that Hermione offers, and without question."

"Of course," Remus breathed, giving Dumbledore a swift nod, almost like he was bowing.

The trio nodded solemnly, Hermione roughly wiping the tear from her cheek as she did so.

"Be sure to understand me, you three. I mean that you must follow even such orders as 'run,' 'hide,' or 'go back.' Do I have your word?"

They nodded once again, and then seemingly satisfied, Dumbledore said, "Very good. Then I wish you to go and fetch your Invisibility Cloak and meet me back in the entrance hall in five minutes' time."

Dumbledore turned back to look out the fiery window; the sun now a ruby red glare along the horizon. Harry, Ron, Remus and Hermione walked quickly from the office and out the door, but just as Remus turned to close the door behind them, Dumbledore's voice rang out, "A word, Remus, if you will."

The Werewolf nodded for the trio to go on, as he went back inside the office and lightly shut the thick oak door on their curious expressions.

As the trio reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, they ran into a thin stranger wearing a black cloak with elaborate gold threads framing the sleeves and the hood that the stranger had pulled securely over their head.

A quick flash of almost luminously pale skin was all they saw of the stranger's face as the figure glanced out at them from behind the veiled shadow of their hood. The figure murmured the password to the gargoyles and quickly pushed by them, almost racing to get away. A strand of pastel blonde hair whipped back over the edge of the hood just as the figure disappeared up the spiraling staircase.

However, they didn't have the time to contemplate who the guest Dumbledore had invited to his office this very important evening could be. They only had a few minutes to race to the Gryffindor Tower and grab Harry's Invisibility cloak… among other things.

Back in their dormitory, Harry flung open his trunk and pulled out his cloak, the Marauder's map, and a pair of balled-up socks. "With Dumbledore away again, Malfoy's going to have another clear shot at whatever he's up to. _No, listen to me_!" he hissed angrily, as Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. "Here…" He shoved the Marauder's Map and the socks into Ron's hands before he looked up at his red-haired friend, knowing that Ron would understand where Hermione could not. "Dumbledore says he's put extra protection in the school, but if Snape's involved, he'll know what Dumbledore's protection is, and how to avoid it- but he won't be expecting you to be on the watch, will he?"

"Er…" said Ron, looking nervously from the Marauder's map to the socks, "Why do I need your dirty socks exactly? And what good will _I_ be if they really are up to something tonight?"

"You've got to watch Malfoy and keep an eye out for Snape in case he tries to double back from the Ministry. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A. You know how to use Hermione's contact Galleons, right?" Ron nodded. "Inside the socks is the Felix Felicis. Share it with Ginny, Luna, Neville, and whomever else you find to help. Say goodbye to Ginny for me." Harry turned to Hermione, "We'd better go, Dumbledore and Remus are waiting…"

"No!" said Ron, who seemed to be coming out of his stupor with the marvel of the golden amber liquid encased in the tiny delicate bottle he held in his palm. "I don't want it, you two take it. Who knows what you're going to be facing?"

"We'll be fine, we'll be with Remus and each other," urged Hermione. "And while I doubt very much that Snape _or_ Malfoy will be unfolding any great plot against Hogwarts tonight, the conditions are just right for an attack, regardless of what Professor Dumbledore says. And I agree with Harry. We'll want to know that you're okay and that all our friends here in the castle are protected. We're counting on you, Ron." With that, Hermione flung her arms around a very surprised Ron and hugged him close. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her bushy hair, savoring the moment a bit longer than Harry was really comfortable with.

As Hermione pulled away, Harry stepped up to his friend and gave as manly a hug as he could muster, saying as he moved away, "We'll see you later, mate. Take care of this place for us."

Ron nodded, suddenly seeming years older, his mind set to the task at hand. "And you two take care of each other."

And then they were off, hurrying back through the portrait hole and toward the entrance hall.

Dumbledore and Remus were waiting beside the oaken front doors, quietly conversing. They turned as Harry and then a moment later, Hermione, came skidding out onto the topmost stone step, both panting hard.

"Where's Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked calmly, peering over his half-moon spectacles as Harry bent over, clutching at the searing stitch in his side.

Hermione gasped out, "He's…not…coming."

Finally catching his breath, Harry added, "He forgot about the vanishing step along the stairway and twisted his…umm…ankle?"

Dumbledore regarded the two of them silently for a moment. "Very well," he said at last, some degree of disappointment lacing his features. "I would like for the three of you to wear the cloak now, please." He waited until Harry had thrown the cloak over Remus, Hermione, and himself - a crowded fit as had been the case- before saying, "Good. Shall we go?"

Dumbledore set off at once down the stone steps, his own traveling cloak barely stirring in the still summer air. Harry and Remus, with Hermione sandwiched between them, hurriedly shuffled alongside him under the Invisibility Cloak, all of them sweating rather a lot with the close quarters and with the recent mad run two of them had just underwent.

They awkwardly made their way down the drive in the gathering twilight. The air was full of the smells of warm grass, lake water, and wood smoke from Hagrid's cabin. It was difficult to reconcile that they were heading for anything dangerous or frightening.

They turned out of the gates into the twilit, deserted lane to Hogsmeade. Darkness descended fast as they walked, and by the time they reached the High Street, night was falling in earnest. Lights twinkled from windows over shops and as they neared the Three Broomsticks they heard raucous shouting.

"…and stay out!" shouted Madam Rosmerta, forcibly ejecting a grubby-looking wizard. "Oh, hello, Albus… You're out late…"

"Good evening, Roserta, good evening… forgive me, I'm off to the Hog's Head…No offense, but I feel like a quieter atmosphere tonight…"

A minute later they turned the corner into the side street where the Hog's Head's sign creaked a little, though there was no breeze. In contrast to the Three Broomsticks, the pub appeared to be completely empty.

Dumbledore turned to the three of them, knowing exactly where they were even through the cloak. "Remus knows the way. I have described it to him in some detail, as well as some possible barriers Tom might have set up. Remember the conditions you have agreed to, and remember to trust each other. Be careful of the Horcrux itself and do not attempt to destroy it until you are safely back at the castle."

Dumbledore began to spin into his own apparation that would take him to the Ministry's muggle entrance, just outside a red phone booth, but Hermione ducked out from under the cloak and stopped his spin just before the tell-tale pop of dispersal could sound.

"Yes, my dear?" Dumbledore asked, clearly at a loss.

"Just…" Hermione began, stopped herself, and then, bottom lip quivering as though she would begin to cry, launched herself at her Headmaster and hugged him very quickly before straitening and clearing her throat of all the emotions. "Please be careful, sir."

Dumbledore smiled down at her fondly, "One adventure becomes another, Miss Granger. To be careful, certainly, but never forget to greet them with a certain sense of wonder- a hunger for knowledge in the unknown and the yet to be entertained. I know I can count on you for that."

Hermione gave a muffled sob, and then choked out, "Yes, sir."

Remus and Harry appeared on either side of her as Harry stuffed the cloak into his large trouser pocket. Dumbledore nodded to the three of them before elegantly swerving into his apparation and disappearing with the night.

"Hang on tight, and get ready to apparate on my mark, you two," Remus said as Hermione grabbed a hold of one of his arms and Harry the other. "I'll guide you as best I can where we're going, but you're going to have to use your own power to push you there. Ready?"

Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance, willing the other to stay strong, and then they nodded.

"On the count of three then… One…two…three…"

At once, Harry had a horrible sensation that he was being squeezed through a thick rubber tube; he could not draw breath, every part of him was being compressed almost past endurance and then, just when he thought he must suffocate, the invisible bands seemed to burst open, and he was standing in cool darkness, breathing in lungfuls of fresh, salty air.


	16. A Wizard's Best Friend

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**A Wizard's Best Friend**

_Disclaimer: I own not. All is the property of J.K. Rowling and I thank her for letting me play in her world and with her wonderfully colorful characters. _

_A/N: Special thanks to ChocolatStar, forbiddenharmony7, Mionefan, Harmonee, alaskan-dracolych, Raven3182, GGSVHM, jayley, badkidoh, swampophelia, Slytherin66, hg-Omega, and happylady for reviewing the latest chapter. I can't tell you what it means to get helpful feedback… well, back. Thank you! I shamefully borrow much directly from Half-Blood Prince, (Primarily set descriptions because J.K. Rowling is a master at painting a scene) but again, the cave was too important to pass up completely. Please R&R ~HorseLoverTW_

Before Harry had even opened his eyes, he could smell the salt and hear the rushing of nearby waves. A light, chilly breeze ruffled his hair as he peered out at the moonlit sea and the star-strewn sky. They were standing upon a high outcrop of dark rock, water foaming and churning below them. Directly in front of them like a towering goliath stood a sheer cliff, black and faceless. A few large chunks of rock, such as the one upon which Harry, Hermione, and Remus were standing, looked as though they had broken away from the cliff face at some point in the past. It was a bleak, harsh view, the sea and the rock unrelieved by any tree or sweep of grass or sand.

"What now?" Hermione shouted, her voice as rough as the waves thundering below them. All Harry could think was how demented the orphanage must have been to trapeze the children out to this dreary scrap of desolation for a vacation. No wonder Tom Riddle had grown up psychotic.

Remus gingerly shrugged off his always-shabby brown cloak and with a quick wave of his wand, it disappeared into the sea breeze. "I believe…" he said as he began to run up his sleeves and the end of his trousers, Harry and Hermione looking on quizzically, "that our destination lies a bit further ahead." He gestured toward the cliff wall in front of them. "At the very bottom there's a black jagged edge. That's the opening in the cliff Dumbledore told me about. That's where we need to be."

Hermione stared doggedly out into the pitch, her brow wrinkled in concentration as she tried to see what Remus had. "I don't see anything. Are you sure?"

Remus turned his gaze on both Harry and Hermione and quirked a brow, allowing them for a flash to see the bit of amber like fire glowing dimly in his kind eyes. "Quite."

"Oh, right. Must have its advantages," Harry said grimly, taking Remus's cue and taking off his robes. "I take it we're about to go for a swim?"

"We'll want to save as much of our magical energy as possible for the trials Voldemort doubtlessly has in store for us, so yes. I'm afraid so." Remus waited until Hermione too had removed her heavy robe and then banished both of their items as he had his own. Remus then beckoned Harry and Hermione to the very edge of the rock where a series of jagged niches made footholds leading down to boulders that lay half-submerged in water and closer to the cliff.

It was a treacherous descent but with Remus's agility and good eyesight, they were able to navigate a path reasonably well. The only problem came when Hermione slipped on one of the lower rocks slick with seawater. She was right in front of Harry, who without thinking, acted on reflex and steadied her. The flecks of cold salt spray showered their faces, only inches apart. Harry felt the thudding of her heart against his hands, its rhythm tied to his own. That thought, of her being there with him, of not having to face this alone, reassured him. "You alright?" He whispered lowly, his voice soft but heard as it was with his lips very near to her ear.

Stiffly, she nodded, her arms reaching back to cling to him a bit as though she too were drawing some comfort from their rather awkward embrace. Reluctantly, they pulled away, but as they continued on behind Remus toward the boulder closest to the cliff face, Harry kept one hand resting on Hermione's hip, just to reassure them both that they were together.

"_Lumos_!" exclaimed Remus, and a thousand flecks of golden light sparkled upon the dark surface of the water a few feet below where they crouched; the black wall of rock before them now illuminated as well. "You see it alright now, I'd wager," he said over his shoulder to the two of them, holding his wand a little higher.

Immediately, Harry saw a fissure in the cliff into which dark water was swirling. It looked sinister, like the sea would swallow them whole at that juncture and they'd be crushed thousands of feet beneath the surface, so endless was the blackness of the void.

"I know Harry can swim, rather impressively as Sirius liked to constantly remind anyone that would listen of your Triwizard exploits, but are you able, Hermione?" Remus asked as he stood to face them, a brief shadow of humor passing over his prematurely aged face as he no doubt thought of how much Sirius would have enjoyed going on a quest such as theirs that night.

"I'm the only daughter of two dentists," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "Piano, swimming, and horseback riding lessons were essential, they had assured me."

"I had no idea you were so accomplished," Harry teased.

"You never asked," Hermione shot back acerbically.

Remus looked between the two with a feint smile. "James once made fun of me for having had swimming lessons as a child as well." At their perplexed expression, he went on, "My mother was a muggle-born and after the lycanthropy, had wanted to keep my childhood as normal as possible."

"So she had you take swimming lessons?" Harry asked incredulously, not having a whole lot of normal childhood parenting to go on and finding it all rather surreal.

"Oh yes," Remus said, "And it turned out to be quite lucky when I saved James from the Giant Squid after one of his earlier and rather more spectacular broom accidents."

"You'll have to tell me about it once this is over, alright?" Harry said, inadvertently thrusting the gravity of the situation on them once more. He knew that Remus had wanted to loosen them up a bit, probably a wise course of action prior to swimming into rough and frigid waters, but the reality made Harry feel like he was cheating the danger that lay ahead.

Remus nodded his understanding to Harry. "Indeed. We all set?" They both nodded. "Alright, I'll lead, try to use my light as a guide and keep as close as possible." With that, Remus nimbly slid from the boulder, landed in the sea, and began to swim. His strokes were powerful and even as they carried him quickly toward the dark slit in the rock face, his lit wand clenched between hard teeth.

Hermione sucked in a quick puff of salty air and then gracefully tucked herself into the water after him. For a moment, the shock of the water seemed to daze her and she treaded, doing the dog paddle as she worked to loosen her joints but soon enough she was following Remus, a near perfect sidestroke assuring Harry that she would catch their former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor very shortly.

Trying not to think about how cold the water would be, Harry quickly plunged himself in and bobbed up a moment later, his entire body shutting down on him in the freezing iciness. As the pinpricks gave way and the constriction of air in his throat lessened, Harry took several deep breaths that filled his nostrils with the tang of salt and seaweed. His heart calmed considerably and he was able to strike out toward the shimmering, shrinking light now moving deeper into the cliff.

The fissure soon opened into a dark tunnel that Harry could tell would be filled with water at high tide. The slimy walls were barely three feet apart and glimmered like wet tar in the passing light of Remus's wand. A little way in, the passage curved to the left, and Harry saw that it extended far into the cliff. He continued to swim in Hermione's wake, the tips of his benumbed fingers brushing the rough, wet rock.

Then he saw Remus rising out of the water ahead, his shaggy peppered hair gleaming and his black jumper clinging to his skin somewhat impressively. Hermione was next, and Harry, for the briefest of moments, wondered what the ever-logical Hermione would do about her sure-to-be drenched white oxford. He shouldn't have bothered though, for Hermione fluidly rung her wand in a half moon arch over her clothes as she emerged and they dried instantly as though she had never been swimming. Her hair was a different story, however. Although still slightly damp, the frizz was at its worst and the hasty knot Hermione had tied it into was beginning to come undone.

When Harry reached the spot they had risen from the water, he found steps that led into a large cave. He clambered up them, water streaming from his soaking clothes, and emerged, shivering uncontrollably, into the still and freezing air.

Remus was standing in the middle of the cave, his wand held high as he turned slowly on the spot, critically examining the walls and ceiling.

Hermione eyed Harry speculatively for a moment, almost smirking. Harry looked down at himself in confusion before reddening with embarrassment at how badly his clothes were sticking to his body. "We can't all have every charm ever recorded in a book memorized, Hermione," Harry grumbled.

"Oh, so battling a piece of Voldemort's soul is no problem, but learning a simple warming charm has you coming undone? Very comforting to know you're on our side, Harry." Hermione whispered, her eyes trained steadily on Remus but a twitch at the corner of her mouth revealing her mirth.

"Just warm me up already," Harry bit back, and then regretted his choice of words when Hermione turned to fully face him, both of her brows comically raised. Harry felt his cheeks growing even redder. "Not like…you know what I mean." Hermione continued to regard him with barely veiled amusement. "Stop looking at me like that!" Harry finally whispered, rather loudly.

Hermione finally decided to put him out of his misery and quickly waved her wand over him like she had on herself. At once, Harry's clothes were as warm and dry as if they had been hanging in front of a blazing fire.

"Thank you," he said belligerently, pulling his wand out from his trouser pocket and joining Remus.

His skin broke out in goose bumps as shivers of awareness came to him, whether from the spine-deep coldness he'd just swam through, Hermione's close proximity, or the thick folds of enchantments that guarded Voldemort's Horcrux.

"Are you sure this is it?" Hermione asked Remus.

Remus ignored her for a minute and continued to revolve on the spot, evidently concentrating on things they could not see. "It has to be…" he said at last. "There are traces of magic everywhere lacing off in all directions…"

"So there's some hidden door we need to find?" Harry asked, experimentally holding his own wand high and seeing if an invisible force would carry it a certain way, like holding your finger to the wind to feel its direction.

"Essentially yes," Remus said after a moment or two, pulling from his pocket a silvery glowing tool that looked in shape to very much resemble a spindly funnel.

"I remember that…" Harry murmured, gazing in wonder at the object as black oily smoke wafted through the funnel instrument at varying increments, its sparkling exterior transparent. "It was one of the Dark Arts detector tools you had in your office back when you taught us."

"Very good, Harry. This little piece is quite special. It detects magical traces far more accurately than by wand feeling. The smoke blowing through it will become thicker and darker, the worse and more potent the magic."

Like a bloodhound, Remus let the tool guide him toward the wall of the cave where he held the large funneled end directly up to the cave wall, allowing it to skim the surface and draft out its black vapors. Twice Lupin walked right around the cave, skimming as much of the rough rock as he could, occasionally pausing, allowing the instrument to sift for a moment over a particular spot, until finally he stopped, the funnel pressed flat against the wall, billowing, choking chords of black smoke, as thick as licorice oozing out from its crystal end.

"Here," Remus whispered hoarsely. "We go through here. The entrance must be concealed." He pocketed his funnel and ran his fingers over the spot for a moment, feeling it out. Taking a step back, he then pointed his wand at the rock. For a moment, an arched outline appeared there, blazing white as though there was a powerful light behind the crack. Harry felt that the whiteness was out of place with the oozing retched blackness that the instrument had detected laid within.

"You've done it!" cried Hermione, but before the words had left her lips the outline had gone, leaving the rock as bare and solid as ever.

Remus shook his head in frustration, regarding the wall before him as though they were back with the boggart in third year. Professor Lupin then had stared at the moon with a complete sense of utter weariness and absolute annoyance. Much like he was regarding the astonishingly blank wall in front of them now.

After three solid minutes, unable to stand it any longer, Harry tentatively asked, "Any ideas?"

"Several…" Remus murmured distractedly, still staring intently at the wall. Finally, he retched himself away from it to glance at Hermione. "None of which will be entirely pleasant to experiment. Do you have any ideas, Hermione?"

She ran her hand gently over the spot Remus had found and then stood back, crossing her arms. "I really haven't read very much about wards and enchantments… there was one book in the restricted section that Madam Pince wouldn't let me check out and none of my Professors would give me a note for. Not even McGonagall would write one for me; said it was unrelated to the polyamphibious microtransfiguration we were studying that week, even after I pointed out that ward enchantments would benefit the internal structure of the egg membranes as they…"

"Hermione," Harry said, interrupting her, "is there anything remotely useful you might have possibly come across in any of the other thousands of books you've read?"

Hermione shot him a dirty look but kept her tongue, instead racking her mind for a moment. "Well, not from a book exactly," she began, suddenly looking excited. "These are Voldemort's enchantments, right?"

Remus and Harry nodded dutifully, willing her to go on.

"Perhaps he has it guarded the same way he had the Chamber of Secrets guarded? I mean, only he would be able to enter. It would make it both exceedingly easy and extremely difficult all at once."

Harry mulled it over and shrugged before stepping up to the wall. "It's worth a shot." He focused on the spot in the wall and imagined a snake to be slithering from it. "_Open_!" He hissed in parseltongue. Nothing happened. He tried it once more to similar results.

"Alright then," Remus sighed, "I suppose it falls to my devices." He pulled a knife from his pocket, which must have been magical as it couldn't have possibly fit the funnel device and the short silver knife- the kind Harry used to chop potion ingredients- inside it, as well as Remus's wand where he had it stowed at present.

Alarmed at the sight of the knife, Hermione shouted, "What are you doing?"

"Voldemort being who he is," Remus said quietly as he put the blade inside his balled fist and slit it out quickly, a flash of silver as the knife appeared from his still closed fist and a spurt of scarlet the only sign that Remus had in fact just cut himself rather deeply. "…a sociopath and a master of the Dark Arts, which rely heavily on blood ceremonies; he must have liked the idea of his enemy being weakened before he enters." Ignoring the abhorrent look Hermione was shooting him, Remus unclenched his fist and smeared the blood over the spot on the wall until it was glistening.

"How crude…" Hermione sniffed disapprovingly as she grabbed his hand and bandaged it quickly using _ferula_.

"You could have let one of us do that, you know?" Harry told Remus, perhaps more sharply than he'd intended to.

Remus just shook his head before prying his hand out of Hermione grip and passing the tip of his wand over the already blood stained bandage so that it healed instantly. He banished the bandage and gave an empty smile to them both. "No," he said grimly, "I couldn't. Not on good conscience at any rate."

Just then, the blazing silver outline of an arch appeared in the wall once more, and this time it did not fade away: The blood-smeared rock within it simply vanished, leaving an opening into what seemed total darkness.

"Besides," Remus added as he relit his wand with a powerful _lumos_, adding to the light already cast by Harry and Hermione's wands, "I heal faster than either of you."

They cautiously walked through the archway, Hermione mumbling, "Oh, more darkness…how lovely…" as they went.

An eerie sight met their eyes: They were standing on the edge of a great black lake, so vast that Harry could not make out the distant banks, in a cavern so high that the ceiling too was out of sight. A misty greenish light shone far away in what looked like the middle of the lake; it was reflected in the completely still water below.

The greenish glow and the light from the three wands were the only things that broke the otherwise velvety blackness, though their rays did not penetrate as far as Harry would have expected. The darkness was somehow denser than normal.

"The water feels…" Hermione quietly drifted off, her expression unsettled.

"Yea," Harry agreed, his voice coming out as a whisper when he hadn't meant it to. He came to stand very close to her side, willing the shivers of dread and panic running up and down his spine to subside.

Remus's voice rang in the vacuous silence. "Stay as far away from the water as you can, and whatever you do, don't touch it."

"Oh darn," Harry feebly laughed, "because that was my first instinct."

"Stick close together," Remus commanded, his voice quieter as the space seemed to swallow the remnants of their words.

They set off around the edge of the lake. Their footsteps made echoing, slapping sounds on the narrow rim of rock that surrounded the water. On and on they walked, but the view did not vary: On one side of them, the rough cavern wall, on the other, the boundless expanse of smooth, glassy blackness, in the very middle of which was that mysterious greenish glow. Harry found the place and the silence oppressive, unnervingly so.

"Remus?" he said finally. "You suppose that the Horcrux is the green glow there in the middle of the lake, right?"

"I strongly suspect."

Harry wanted to hit himself for suggesting it, especially in front of such smarts as Remus and Hermione, but he felt the question had to be addressed. "We couldn't…err…simply try a Summoning Charm?"

"We could…" Remus whispered and stopped so suddenly that Hermione almost walked into him. He seemed to mull it over for a minute before suddenly saying, "Give it a go, Harry."

"Uh…alright…" skeptical, Harry realized that he hadn't expected so little resistance from Remus but regardless, he cleared his throat and said loudly, wand aloft, "_Accio Horcrux_!"

With a noise like an explosion, something very large and pale erupted out of the dark water some twenty feet away; before Harry could see what it was, it had vanished again with a crashing splash that made great, deep ripples on the mirrored surface. Harry leapt backward in shock and hit the wall, hearing a low growl somewhere in front of him as he attempted to rein in the thundering of his heart.

Hermione cleared her throat. "What was that?"

Somewhat spooked, never a good sign coming from a werewolf, Remus said, "I believe it was an inferius. Voldemort used them with some degree of success during his first war and apparently has some here to guard his Horcrux."

"They're akin to zombies, aren't they?" Hermione asked clinically, a bit too detached for Harry's taste as he looked back at the once more shining black glass: The ripples had vanished unnaturally fast; Harry's heart, however, was still pounding. He felt unreasonably hot for a moment as well.

"Yes; conjured by pure dark magic, they obey the wizard who reanimates them without question. They have no sentience of their own."

"They were probably the result of wizards delving into Necromancy with no understanding of the repercussions," Hermione ventured, conversing easily with Remus as they started on their precarious route around the inky lake once more. She had made good use of the myriad of Dark Arts and Defense thereof books in the Room of Requirement during their extra study sessions that year.

"Oh, I think they knew exactly the repercussions," Remus said. "Grindelwald was the first to ever be associated with them. It's believed he was trying to raise an entire army out of the dead."

"Can you imagine?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"I don't think we'll have to for much longer," Harry pointed out grimly, cutting their chatter off. "How are we supposed to get to the center of the lake? I'm not exactly keen on the thought of swimming through inferi, kelpies, demons, or whatever else Voldemort has hidden in there…"

"The name _inferius _in the Latin can roughly equate to the Underworld, or the realm of the dead to which the Greek God Hades ruled dominion over."

"How does this help us, Hermione?" Harry asked, growing frustration lacing his words.

"If Voldemort sees this connection in any way, he'd no doubt view himself as the ruler over the dead, thus making this his own little Underworld."

"Still not seeing it…"

A dawning light appeared in Lupin's eyes but he said nothing as Hermione went on impatiently. "And what was the main way in and out of the Underworld? Perhaps the only?"

Suddenly, Harry remembered the infuriating castoff books Dudley had refused to read over the summer that had magically, or not so magically, wormed their way into Harry's small room at Privet Drive. There had been more than a few about Greek Mythology, as Aunt Petunia wanted to think that Dudley was somehow more cultured than a pig in a blanket. The only way in and out of the Underworld had been through…

"A boat!" Harry exclaimed, suddenly finding himself as excited as his two companions.

"There must be an anchor of some sort on the bank that we can use to pull it up!" Remus said with a nod, once more pulling out his crystalline funnel instrument and with the wand light, using it to gauge dark magic. They searched high and low using the funnel for what seemed hours before finally the black ooze began to pour from the end of it, melting the edge so badly that Remus was forced to drop it. It landed with a resounding splash in the black water where a marble white hand, unmistakable as it was unforgettable, rose from the water like the Lady of the Lake to claim the tool before pulling it down deep into the depths where the blackness quickly made it disappear from sight.

"Very good…" Remus said, his brow knitted in concentration as he ignored the looks of horror Harry and Hermione were still shooting at where the inferius had been. He was busy running his hand carefully through the air where the funnel had met its untimely doom, as though expecting to find and grip something invisible.

"Gotcha!" shouted Remus happily, seconds later. His hand had closed in midair upon something Harry could not see. Lupin moved closer to the water; Harry watched anxiously as the tips of Lupin's scuffed shoes found the utmost edge of the rock rim. Keeping his hand clenched in midair, Remus raised his wand with the other and tapped his fist with the point.

Immediately a thick coppery green chain appeared out of thin air, extending from the depths of the water into Lupin's clenched hand. Lupin tapped the chain, which began to slide through his fist like a snake, coiling itself on the ground with a clinking sound that echoed noisily off the rocky walls, pulling something from the depths of the black water. Hermione gasped as the ghostly prow of a tiny boat broke the surface, glowing as green as the chain, and floated, with barely a ripple, toward the place on the bank where Harry, Hermione and Remus stood.

"Why couldn't he just be happy with dominion over the dead, and leave the rest of us alone?" Hermione asked to no one in particular as the boat hit the bank with a gentle bump.

Darkly, Harry answered her, "He probably wants to swell his ranks first." He turned and asked Lupin skeptically, his eyes alternating between the inky water and the fragile, ethereal boat, "Do you think the boat is safe?"

"It should be…" Lupin said hesitantly. "Voldemort needed to create a means to cross the lake himself."

"Without having his zombie hordes wade him across…" Harry supplied unhelpfully.

"You'd think that the inferi would be programmed to only allow Voldemort to pass," Hermione mused quietly.

"It's likely that he has more defenses in place," Remus conjectured. "Also, don't forget how mindless the inferi are. They are but husks of men and women who exist solely in the darkness. We can fight them with light."

"You mean fire?" Harry hazarded.

"_Incendio_ will do the trick nicely and both of you are more than capable of it."

Harry looked down into the boat. It really was very small. "It doesn't look like it was built for three people. Will it hold all of us?"

Hermione laughed. "As though Voldemort would care about weight, Harry. More than likely it measures the amount of magical power crossing the lake. Probably meant so that only one wizard at a time would be able to sail in it."

"But then…?"

"I don't think either Hermione or you will count, Harry: You're underage and unqualified. Hermione is just barely of age and slightly less unqualified in Voldemort's eyes. He would never have expected a teenage wizard and witch to reach this place: Besides, I think it's very unlikely that your powers will even register when mine will be somewhat enigmatic to begin with due to my lycanthropy."

"What a surprise for He-Who-Thinks-He's-Hades, we must present," Hermione said, trying unsuccessfully to sound enthusiastic as she very carefully climbed into the boat first. "A werewolf and two teenagers- the scourge of the Underworld."

Harry went in next, very gingerly stepping into the already overcrowded boat beside Hermione. When Remus stepped in, coiling the chain onto the floor as he did so, they found themselves crammed in tight together as sardines; none of them really able to sit so they all sort of leaned against each other to keep away from the sides. The boat moved at once without their aid, as though invisible rope was pulling it onward toward the light in the center, making no sound other than the silken rustle of the prow cleaving the water.

Their wand light slid over the water and showed numerous husks, floating face up only inches beneath the surface, their open eyes misted as though with cobwebs, their hair and robes swirling around them like smoke.

The trio said nothing as they passed the corpses, terror ripping words from their minds before their tongues could even try to process them. A rapid fire of disunited thoughts burned through Harry's mind as the boat still inexorably neared the greenish glow. He couldn't deny now how scared he was. The great black lake, teeming with the dead…It seemed hours and hours ago that they had discovered Remus in Snape's guise, that he had given Ron the Felix Felicis…He suddenly wished he had said a better good-bye to him…and he hadn't seen Ginny at all…

He clutched Hermione's hand fiercely. Her fingers slowly closed over his as she tightened her grip.

All too quickly, the greenish light seemed to be growing larger at last, and within minutes, the boat had come to a halt, bumping gently into something that Harry could not see at first, but when he raised his illuminated wand he saw that they had reached a small island of smooth rock in the center of the lake.

As carefully as they had entered the boat, they left it, and it wasn't until Hermione had to exit the boat that Harry relinquished her hand.

The island was no larger than Dumbledore's office, an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing but the source of that greenish light which looked much brighter when viewed close to. Harry squinted at it; at first, he thought it was a lamp of some kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin rather like the Pensieve, which was set on top of a pedestal.

Remus approached the basin first with Hermione and Harry flanking him. Side by side, they peered down into it. The basin was full of an emerald liquid emitting that phosphorescent glow.

"What do you think it is?" asked Hermione quietly.

"I'm not sure," said Remus. "More worrisome than the inferi, however."

Remus pushed back the sleeve of his jumper and stretched out the tips of his scarred fingers toward the surface of the potion.

Warningly, Harry shouted, "No, Remus! Don't touch…!"

"I-I can't…" said Remus, smiling faintly. "See? I'm unable to approach any closer than this. You give it a try, Harry."

Staring, Harry put his hand into the basin and attempted to touch the potion. He met an invisible barrier that prevented him coming within an inch of it. No matter how hard he pushed, his fingers encountered nothing but what seemed to be solid and inflexible air. Hermione tried with the same result.

"Out of the way, please, you two," said Remus urgently. He raised his wand and made complicated movements over the surface of the potion murmuring soundlessly. Nothing happened, except perhaps that the potion glowed a little brighter. Harry and Hermione remained silent while Remus worked, but after a while Remus withdrew his wand, and Harry felt it was safe to talk again.

"You think the Horcrux is in there?"

"Almost assuredly." Remus peered more closely into the basin. Harry saw Lupin's face reflected, upside down, the patchwork of scars at odds with the smooth surface of the green potion. "But how do we reach it? This potion cannot be penetrated by hand, vanished, parted, scooped up, or siphoned away, nor can it be transfigured, charmed, or otherwise made to change its nature."

To his other side, a flash of tin glinted out of the corner of Harry's vision and made him turn his head in time to see Hermione lower her wand, a tin goblet clutched in her other hand.

She looked steadily at both Harry and Remus. "We're left with the only option that makes sense then; we're supposed to drink it."

"What?" asked Harry, sure that he had mistaken her just as Remus simultaneously shouted, "NO! Absolutely not!"

"Think about it you two, only by drinking it can we empty the basin to see what lies at the bottom," Hermione point out stubbornly.

"Why wouldn't the potion just kill the drinker?" Harry argued.

"Voldemort would want to incapacitate more than anything else so he could learn how whoever it was that got this far learned about his Horcruxes."

"He'd want to gather whether his other pieces were secure or not…" Remus murmured, and Harry had the sinking suspicion that he was losing this battle.

"Alright," Harry said, relenting, "But that doesn't mean it should be Hermione to drink the potion."

"Quite right, Harry," Remus said. He plucked the goblet from Hermione's hands to her dismay. "It should be me."

"And just how's that? Because your wolfishness gives you a higher pain threshold?" Hermione reached to swipe back her conjured goblet but Remus kept it out of her reach.

Agitated, Harry said, "Yea, Remus," and watched as Lupin grimly played keep away from a frustrated Hermione. "When I said 'not Hermione,' what I meant was that it should be me."

Now it was both Remus and Hermione who turned on Harry to glare at him. "Get over your bloody hero complex, Harry!" Hermione yelled.

"There is no way I'm allowing you to drink this, Harry," Remus said, a bit calmer than Hermione, but just as adamant. "You're the one chosen by prophecy to defeat Voldemort and I don't think that meant just one sliver of his black soul." Remus turned on Hermione then and said succinctly, "And yyyyes, Hermione," he said hitting the 'yes' rather forcefully. "My 'wolfishness' as you so eloquently put it does in fact grant me a higher pain threshold; I'm also older, have no remaining family, and am much less valuable than either of you thus making me actually the most qualified person here to ingest an unknown, unquestionably harmful potion."

Hermione scowled. "What your logic fails to point out is that with you most likely incapacitated, or worse, our chances of making it out of this cavern in one piece drastically diminish."

"Hence making it so fortunate that you will be around to rescue us all, Hermione," Remus said with uncharacteristic sarcasm.

Quelled and shaking with rage or fear, Harry wasn't sure which as he was battling both as well at the moment, Hermione didn't respond.

Remus quickly took his cue and lowered the tin goblet into the potion. For a split second, Harry hoped that Lupin would not be able to touch the potion with the goblet, but the tin sank into the surface as nothing else had. When the glass was full to the brim, Remus lifted it to his mouth.

"Whatever happens, you two have to make sure that I keep drinking it." And he drained the goblet. Harry and Hermione both watched, terrified, hands gripping the rim of the basin so hard that their knuckles turned white.

"Remus?" Harry inquired anxiously as Lupin lowered the empty glass. "How do you feel?"

Remus shook his head, his eyes closed. Harry wondered whether he was in pain. Suddenly, Remus staggered and fell forward against the basin. His eyes were still closed, his breathing heavy. His face was twitching as though he was deeply asleep, but dreaming a horrible dream. His grip on the goblet slackened and it fell with a clang to the rocky floor. Remus panted and then spoke in a voice Harry did not recognize, for he had never heard Remus frightened and broken like this.

"You… It was you…It's all my fault…James and Lilly and Sirius and…"

Harry stared into the agonized face he knew so well, at the familiar scars that ran across his now pale cheeks and forehead to the shaggy hair now drenched in sweat even in the draftiness of the cave.

Suddenly, Remus's eyes flew open and he screamed. It was a horrible sound, like that of a wild animal in mortal pain that came from deep within.

Hermione rushed to Lupin's side and using _ferula _again, conjured some bandages that she quickly stuffed in his mouth to cease the screaming. He blissfully passed out of his agony several long, arduous seconds later.

"You could have just cast _silencio_," Harry pointed out.

Hermione scooped up the goblet and walked swiftly toward the basin. "_Silencio_ shuts off noise coming from the mouth, it doesn't block pain receptors."

Harry gently laid Remus on his side and rushed to Hermione before she could dip the goblet in. "Are you crazy! You saw what that did to Remus!"

"I think there might be another way, Harry," Hermione said, staring intently at the goblet and then looking excitedly up at Harry, with a fervor normally reserved for finishing homework, as if this were simply another riddle. "The potion affected Remus mentally. The way he reacted was as though a dementor were nearby."

Confused, Harry asked quizzically, "So we _expecto patronum_ the potion?"

"No, don't you see?" Hermione went on breathlessly, "We don't have to fight the potion, we just need to get rid of it."

"By drinking it…?" Harry asked, still not following. "But you said the only way to get rid of it was by a person drinking it."

Hermione gently sat the goblet down in front of her. "I never said it had to be a person….

"Think about it, Harry. What's the only method ever known to work at getting around the affects of a dementor _without_ fighting one?"

Harry pondered this for a few moments and would have asked for more clarification, but realized that she was so focused on the tin goblet before her that she didn't even seem to register his presence. She stared at the goblet for what seemed like hours to Harry, but in actuality, couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Then, before his astonished eyes, Hermione Granger began to change.

Her bushy hair, already frizzy beyond recognition, grew courser, and seemed to… well, spread; everywhere- in shades of cream, black, and Hermione's normal brown.

She began to hunch over, her form shrinking. Her ears and nose lengthened into points and a snout, while her fingers shriveled into stubby paws.

Where Harry's best friend had been, there now stood, proudly on all fours, a beautiful collie with Hermione's warm chocolate brown eyes staring confidently up at Harry as the dog stuck out its tongue and began to pant as it tilted its head in an almost gloating manner.

Harry stared in a stupor until the collie barked, a very dignified, civilized bark. "Uh…good Hermione…?"

The collie barked once more, a little more impatiently, as Hermione indicated the goblet with her paw.

Harry skeptically arched a brow. "Right…" and, drawing his wand at the tin goblet, he transfigured it into a tin bowl. Hermione responded with a light growl.

Harry raised his hands up. "Okay, okay. You sure about this… Hermione?" In answer, he received an affirmative bark and a single wag of her bushy tail.

Harry took the bowl, and then with a fearful glance at his unconscious former DADA professor, scooped the glowing green potion into it and set it down before the out of place collie with clear reservations.

Hermione proceeded to lap up a few sips of the potion with her long tongue before looking up at Harry. Immediately, fearing the worst, Harry almost yanked the bowl away from her until she dove her head back into the bowl and drained the remainder of its contents, licking the bowl dry and whining for the next before Harry could even gather it up.

This continued until the third bowl when Hermione began to whimper. She fell clumsily to her haunches, staggering a bit as Remus had done until Harry dropped to the floor and scooped her head up into his lap. He whispered hoarsely, his heart going out to her as her liquid eyes clenched in pain. "You've been so brave, Hermione. I know you can do it. There's only a little bit left."

Hermione licked his hand and her tail gave a slow, laborious wag. Harry gently sat her head down and dipped the bowl for the last time, the dark object apparent in the bottom of the basin his least concern for the moment.

He sat the bowl down carefully and then gently scooped the weakened collie into his arms, holding the bowl just where she could easily reach it. She began to slowly, methodically lap up the horrible potion, Harry unconsciously stroking her back in time with the lapping of her long pink tongue. She had to rest several times, Harry continuing to hold her and whisper encouragement until he could no longer speak, while she licked at the bowl, draining every last drop, and then, with a great rattling gasp, rolled off his lap, her elegant legs sprawled awkwardly beneath her.

In a matter of seconds, her hair retreated, her fingers and arms reemerged, her snout dwindled into a nose, her black pointed ears shrunk, and she grew back into Hermione, the seventeen year old witch, collapsed seemingly unconscious on her back and not breathing.

"No!" shouted Harry, who flung himself down beside Hermione, her cheeks unnaturally pale, her mouth agape, and her eyes closed. "No," said Harry, shaking her now, "no, you're not dead, you were the one that said it wouldn't kill the drinker, wake up, wake up- _Rennervate_!" he cried, his wand pointing at Hermione's chest; there was a flash of red light but nothing happened. "_Rennervate-_ Hermione…please…"

Hermione's eyelids flickered; Harry's heart leapt.

"Hey," he whispered gently, near crying with gratitude. "are you…?"

"Water," croaked Hermione.

"Water," panted Harry. "Yes…"

He leapt to his feet and seized the bowl he had dropped on the floor; he barely registered the golden locket lying curled beneath the basin as he tried to fill the bowl with water.

"_Aguamenti- Aguamenti- AGUAMENTI_!"

The bowl filled and emptied once more. And now Hermione's breathing was fading. His brain whirling in panic, Harry knew, instinctively, the only way left to get water, because Voldemort had planned it so…

He flung himself over to the edge of the rock and plunged the bowl into the lake, bringing it up full to the brim of icy water that did not vanish.

"Hermione…here!" Harry yelled, and lunging forward, he tipped the water clumsily over Hermione's ashen face.

It was the best he could do, for the icy feeling on his arm not holding the cup was not the lingering chill of the water. A slimy white hand had gripped his wrist and the creature to whom it belonged was pulling him, slowly, backward across the rock. The surface of the lake was no longer mirror-smooth; it was churning, and everywhere Harry looked, ghostly white heads and hands were emerging from the dark water, men and women and children with sunken, sightless eyes were moving toward the rock: an army of the dead rising from the black water.

"_Incendio! Incendio! INCENDIO!_" screamed Harry over and over, struggling to cling to the smooth, soaked surface of the island as he pointed his wand at the Inferi that held to him: They released him, and fell backward into the water with a splash; he scrambled to his feet, but many more Inferi were already climbing onto the rock, their bony hands clawing at the slippery surface, their blank, frosted eyes upon him, trailing waterlogged rags, sunken faces leering.

"_INCENDIO!"_ Harry bellowed again, backing away as he swiped his wand through the air; a dozen of them shrieking and escaping the flames but more on the way once the flames died. They walked on unfeeling, their shrunken hands outstretched toward him, and as he backed away still farther, he felt arms enclose him from behind, thin fleshless arms cold as death, and his feet left the ground as they lifted him and began to carry him, slowly and surely, back to the water, and he knew there would be no release, that he would be drowned, and become one more dead guardian of a fragment of Voldemort's shattered soul…

Hermione and Remus, while not yet disturbed by the inferi, would soon be joining him, helpless as they were at the moment to defend themselves after risking their lives to save everyone, himself most of all even though he almost hated them for it. Like he was the hero or something! What had they been thinking? Risking themselves like that…

And suddenly Harry didn't feel cold anymore, he felt burning hot, white hot like a supernova, the magical energy inside him bursting over without reserve, tremendous and overpowering like he had tapped an ocean.

"_FIENDFYRE_!" Harry bellowed in desperation, the spell coming to his mind from a brief lesson with Remus late one night, pages of Dark Arts books strewn about the Room of Requirement. A fleeting glance through one as he waited his turn to duel the winner of Ron and Hermione's duel had opened his eyes to a fiery spell not advisable for use by mediocre witches or wizards. Conjuring it was simple, as easy as lighting a match. Controlling it, keeping it from burning you and everything it touched to ashes was a different story entirely, however. Even now, just having been sparked to life, the fire was getting out of hand, but it was his only shot.

Where the cave had once been almost completely devoid of light, a brilliant orange glow now radiated from its center, permeating even its darkest crevices. He pried his hand from the inferius that held him, his wand aloft as the fire erupted: crimson and gold, a ring of fire that surrounded the rock so that the Inferi holding Harry so tightly stumbled and faltered; they did not dare pass through the flames to get to the water. They dropped Harry and he spun around on them, the fire dancing in his bespeckled eyes. He raised his wand instinctively like a torch and from its tip emanated the flames. He stretched his ocean of fire further until, impossibly, he molded it at will into the first form he could think of that could easily strike and drive the inferi back into the water.

A fiery viper encircled them in its warmth as the inferi bumped into each other, attempting, blindly, to escape the fire in which they were enclosed…

Harry hissed and willed with all his might for the flaming serpent to hold them back, to continue to drive them back and the great fiery monstrosity diligently obeyed as Harry ran and scooped up the locket from the bottom of the stone basin and stowed it deep inside his trouser pocket where his miraculous invisibility cloak still lay folded and unblemished.

"_WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA_!" Harry shouted over the roaring of the flame as he levitated the comatose Remus and Hermione back into the boat. He unceremoniously deposited them safely inside, somewhat piled as they were before he turned to the intense heat behind him to witness the bewildered inferi diving gratefully back into their dark waters to escape the now rampaging flames heading strait toward the tiny boat and the little outcrop of rocks Harry was presently standing upon.

"_Finite_!" Harry shouted commandingly at the fire, but the flaming viper refused to dissipate, seeming to feed off of Harry's anxiety and grow stronger and more potent with every inferi it engulfed. "_FINITE_!" Harry screamed to the top of his lungs. The flames flickered for a moment before the viper regrouped to an almost white hot flame and lunged at Harry, its scorching fangs extended.

Harry flung himself into the boat, landing roughly on top of the unconscious passengers. As soon as he was inside, the boat began to move back across the black water, away from the rock. The fiery viper hissed, sparks shooting high into the cavern's infinite ceiling. Harry thought he was safe, but then two things happened at once:

The fire viper exploded into a formless, thrashing storm over the inky water, now completely out of control and rapidly gaining on them as the inferi fled under the boat and in all directions, as desperate to escape the wildfire as Harry was.

Without any fuel to urge it on, the fiendfyre slowed but did not stop as it spread across the lake, breathing down on their little boat.

They reached the bank with a small bump. Harry quickly leapt out and then levitated Remus and Hermione to follow him. The little boat sank into the water once more; clanking and tinkling, its chain slithering back into the lake too. The fire now covered where it had disappeared.

Exhausted and extremely worried about his two floating companions, Harry directed them back around the lake as fast as he could safely manage, the strain become greater and greater on his magical limits.

Approaching the archway, Harry dug the potion's knife from Remus's pocket and, without ceremony, sliced his forearm and wiped it hastily upon the stone: Having received its tribute of blood, the archway reopened instantly. As soon as Remus and Hermione were safely beyond the barrier, Harry spun to observe the magical blaze as it sped along toward the passage. Just when Harry thought they would be this close to freedom only to be charred alive in the antechamber, the archway sealed itself and a tremendous whooshing sound resounded throughout the high cavern as the fiendfyre seemed to bang against the rock, frustrated that its quarry should escape.

Harry paused for a moment, panting hard, his hands on his knees as he fought to maintain the levitation and to keep from passing out before he crossed the outer cave, Hermione and Remus continuing to float serenely behind him, and when they got to the icy seawater that filled the crevice in the cliff, Harry took a deep breath and began the swim. With his wand clenched in his teeth like Remus had done before, Harry managed to keep his friends floating behind him as he swam back to the outcrop of rocks they had first arrived on.

Back under the comfort of the open starry sky, Harry, his lungs burning, finally released the levitation spell, his frayed nerves shuddering at the relief that brought. He didn't have time to rest however, as he very quickly had to grab a hold of Hermione with one arm and Remus with the other and in a superhuman feat that Harry was sure he would never be able to duplicate, managed to heave them both onto the top of the nearest boulder.

Wrapping his fingers tightly over their arms, Harry slowly struggled to his feet, having to kneel a bit to still hold Hermione and Remus. Sodden and shivering, Harry concentrated harder than he had ever done upon his destination: Hogsmeade. Closing his eyes, gripping their arms as tightly as he could, he stepped forward into that feeling of horrible compression.


	17. Things Fall Apart

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**Things Fall Apart**

_Disclaimer: I own not. All is the property of J.K. Rowling and I thank her for letting me play in her world and with her wonderfully colorful characters. _

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Huge thanks to Riddle09 for their help in editing and ideas! This chapter is roughly four chapters in one. I didn't feel cruel enough to load them separately and prolong the wait…again. Also, did you know that silver _can_…in some instances be a color, not necessarily the harmful metal that Remus seemingly plunged into himself in the last chapter. On further observation however, that could be one of the reasons he's so sick… ;) ~HorseLoverTW_

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"_Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;_

_Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,_

_The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and_

_Everywhere_

_The ceremony of innocence is drowned;_

_The best lack all conviction, while the worst_

_Are full of passionate intensity.__**"**_

_~William Butler Yeats_

_~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~_

The warm darkness of the Hog's Head greeted Harry like an old friend as he stumbled and fell flat on his face into the grimy floorboards of the dour establishment. A goat bleated nearby as Harry's eyelids shuddered open and he inhaled a sharp gasp of the rank air as though he'd been underwater for a very long time.

Frantically, Harry sought out his two companions and heaved a sigh of relief as he spotted both of them sprawled beyond him, apparently still in a state of unconsciousness. Hermione lay on her side, her hasty bun from earlier that night not fit to be called a bird's nest, and one arm awkwardly spread in front of her as though she had been reaching for something elusive there on the dark, dirty floor. Remus lay very still on his back near to the stools by the bar, his breathing shallow and his face a shade paler than Hermione's.

Harry scrambled to his feet and then had to put his hands on his knees as the murky bar swam a bit before him, his stomach lurching with the motion. He fled out the backdoor and hurriedly expelled its meager contents in the dim patch of dying grass by the exit. Disgusted but feeling slightly better, if he was indeed feeling anything at all over his exhaustion, Harry slowly wiped his mouth.

"Bars' closed, sonny," a gruff voice came from the shadows. "Sides, looks as though your friends have had quite enough tonight. No need hitting up this old heap for more."

Startled, Harry looked up at one of the strangest men he had ever seen. The man was old, not Dumbledore old, but nearing it, with curly gray hair and an even grayer, curlier goatee. He wore black woolen jodhpurs that had seen better days and a filthy, yellowing long-sleeve button-up under an extra furry looking brown vest. Harry vaguely registered that the man looked familiar and surmised that he was the eccentric owner of the Hog's Head.

The barman asked, a slight sense of concern now entering his hoarse voice, "You lot alright?"

Now really standing on his feet and starting to think like it, Harry recalled Hermione's words from the cave and stammered, "D-dementors, sir!" He let some of the panic and fear that he'd been feeling that night spring to his face and his throat as he added, truthfully for the most part, "This was the first place I could think of. I didn't mean to apparate inside."

The man gave him a penetrating stare and just when Harry felt uneasy enough to start slinking away, sure that his mind had been laid bare by this complete stranger- animagus muddling all but forgotten- the man gave a sickly grin and walking past him inside toward the bar, saying, "Come along then, have some chocolates before you go your ways."

Surprised, both at the man's abrupt turn-around and that chocolate existed in the Hog's Head, Harry cautiously followed the man. "Sir, may I ask your name?"

The man opened a grungy cabinet to reveal several foiled blocks that greatly resembled golden bricks. He grabbed one and tossed it easily to Harry with a grace that belied his age. Harry knew in the magical world, however, not to take things or people as they appeared and readily caught it, his nerves on end in the quietness.

"Aberforth..." the man trailed off, his expression lost in a far off place as his eyes trained on the inert forms of Remus and Hermione. Wrenching his gaze back to Harry, Aberforth went on, "You'd best take your friends and be getting on. I don't want to know no more about those_ dementors_."

He said 'dementors' as if he clearly didn't believe Harry's words. Deciding not to press his luck, Harry thanked the odd man with a quick nod and wordlessly levitated his compatriots out. With the absence of a rabid, fiery snake bearing down on him,_ Wingardium Leviosa_ now coming to him as naturally as breathing.

He rested them against the cool wall of the nearest ally once he felt they were safely away from Aberforth's knowing gaze. Something about the man, not to mention the establishment itself, thoroughly unsettled Harry.

He unwrapped the beautiful golden foil, so out of place in the darkness and grime, and broke off a hefty chunk of the sizable chocolate. Wearily tasting a tiny portion, Harry grimaced. It was very bitter, the absence of sugar noticeable, but definitely chocolate as it unpleasantly melted on his tongue. Knowing only Hermione would complain, Harry broke off several more pieces, _Aguamenti_-ed some water into a very shoddy looking cup that Harry hastily transfigured from a nearby _Daily Prophet_, and used _Incendio _to melt the chocolate readily into the water for easy consumption.

Sarcastically whispering, "_Cheers_," Harry tilted the brown water into Remus' cracked lips, recalling how Remus constantly professed the merits and magical properties of chocolate. He proceeded to do the same with Hermione, cradling her head and happily noting that her cheeks were slowly regaining a pinkish hue.

He decided to give the chocolate a short moment to work its 'magic' before he would try to _Enerviate _them. As he gingerly leaned his ragged frame against the rough wall next to Hermione, preparing to pull the costly locket from his pocket and exam it for a few seconds, a light in the corner of his eye made him look up into the blanketing night surrounding Hogsmeade.

Instead of grasping the cold metal of the Horcrux, Harry retrieved the liquid smooth fabric of his Invisibility Cloak and carefully drew it over Hermione and Remus, kicking a discarded box of sugar quills in front of them so he could easily find them again.

His sights returned to the light, its direction ominously coming from the Shrieking Shack. Fearing an attack on the school underway, for Wormtail could very easily have revealed the entrance, Harry dashed off, his heart pounding once more and his wand clutched tightly.

As he neared the dilapidated structure, its tired walls beginning to arch in on themselves like an aging invalid, Harry slowed and stealthily approached the front door, casting _Alohomora_ under his breath. As soon as the door swung open, Harry rushed in and flew up the stairs, blindly casting _'Expelliarmus!'_ as he ran, hoping to surprise his foes and desperate to halt their advance.

He heard a dull thud and the light went out- both good signs- just as Harry topped the stairs. Still cautious, Harry fell to a crouch and peered around the corner into the darkened room, the faintest reflection from the quarter moon swathing the scene in an eerie ashen glow.

A figure was struggling to gather itself from the floor, blindly fumbling for their wand in the dimness. Harry lit his wand, showing the figure that he had no choice but to surrender, only to reveal a shock of flaming orange hair and a familiar, albeit slightly panicked face.

Dumbfounded, Harry stupidly asked, "Ron?"

"Bloody hell, mate!" Ron gasped in relief. "I thought you were a Death Eater!"

"I thought _you_ were a Death Eater!"

"Wait," Ron said, dashing for his wand to hold it out in front of him, poised to cast, "How do I know you're the real, Harry Potter? Eh?"

Harry rolled his eyes but belatedly considered for a moment that it wasn't necessarily Ron in front of him either. Then he relaxed and grinned. "The real Harry knows that you're too lucky tonight to run into a real Death Eater."

Ron grinned. "And the real Ron knows that the real Harry would be the only one to really know…

"Oh, will you two both shut it, please!" a voice huffed with considerable impatience from somewhere behind Harry, startling them both so badly that they reflexively trained their wands in that direction, the light from Harry's casting Hermione's gritty face and flying hair into relief. Behind her panting form floated Remus, still not showing any signs of waking soon.

"Hermione!" Harry greeted and unthinkingly threw his arms around her. He hugged her so hard that a 'THUMP!' sounded behind them as Remus hit the stairs.

Hermione wrenched herself from a chagrined Harry to impressively catch Remus with her spell once more before he could slip down the flight and undoubtedly break something.

Hermione settled Remus onto the rickety bed in the far corner of the room, dust flying from the ancient mattress, and turned as Ron eyed the three of them with concern and said, "I came to find you three, you were taking so long, you see..."

"Hold on, Ron. Let's get Remus some more water and that horrid chocolate. He's much worse off than I was." Hermione cut him off, her worried gaze settling on the troubled Werewolf. She propped a pillow under his head and prepared more of the watery chocolate, the large brick she summoned losing another sizable chunk.

"What happened to him?" Ron asked, momentarily putting aside whatever he had been on about- obviously not a full scale Hogwarts invasion then. He picked up the Invisibility Cloak that had come half off of Remus as he'd fallen and handed it to Harry. "And why's your face covered with soot, Harry?"

Harry shoved the cloak back in his pocket and drew out the black locket, flashing it before the others briefly before securely stowing it once more. "En route to retrieving that, Remus- and then Hermione when he passed out- had to drink a potion. Err… there was also a fire. Very minimal, really."

At Ron's blank look, as well as Hermione's to the news of the fire, she shook her head and took over to explain the part she remembered, expertly tilting the liquid into Remus's mouth as she did so, "The potion was protecting the Horcrux and exhibited the same properties as a dementor. Remus got the worst because his horrors are so terrible, both emotionally and physically. It's effects on me were somewhat dampened because my own worst experiences don't compare, and my thoughts themselves, just as with Sirius during his time in Azkaban, were fuzzy in my animagus form."

"You transformed?" Ron exclaimed excitedly.

"It was brilliant," Harry beamed. "She's a…"

Hermione blushed and quickly asked Ron, "Why were you trying to find us? Is something wrong?"

Ron shook his head. "Blimey, I miss out on everything…Uh, right, so we were in Dumbledore's Office- Luna, Neville, Ginny and me- waiting for him to return or news from the three of you, when your dad…"

Alarmed, Hermione interrupted, "_My_ dad?" Worriedly, she asked, "What's happened? Are they alright? Were they attacked? Is it…"

"Hermione," Harry said, as soothingly as he could with his own nerves on edge, effectively cutting her off, "Let him finish." Shaken, she nodded and looked imploringly to Ron.

"Yea, take it easy, Hermione," calmed Ron. "Your mum and dad are fine. He was just poking his head through the floo to tell Dumbledore that the doo-hickey he'd given them for the ward around your house was going off."

Hermione threw her hands up, spilling chocolaty water everywhere. "_Easy_? You want me to take it_ easy_?" Then with an anguished scoff, she quickly raced down the stairs directly for the trap door to the Whomping Willow, Remus and the boys forgotten as she continued to lament. "Just the WARD alarm going off is all, no reason to suspect my parents are being targeted and tortured as we take it _easy_!" The sarcasm echoed throughout the abandoned shack, and hit Harry and Ron hard as they rushed to catch up to her.

"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed and reluctantly, she stopped at the very bottom of the staircase, biting her lip. "He told me that they waited for Dumbledore for several minutes after the alarm went off but nothing happened, so he reckons it's probably just a false alarm. There was nothing in the house or around it. He checked several times."

"Then we're definitely going to London," Hermione said grimly, wheeling around and leaving them once more. Under her breath, Harry thought he heard her say, "Where _is_ Dumbledore?"

They ducked into the hidden passage in the Shrieking Shack. Hermione, much to Ron's astonishment, stopped for a second, gathered herself, and then seamlessly morphed into her collie form, her white hair glowing in the tunnel and her pink tongue hanging out at them before she gave an encouraging bark and bounded off toward the Whomping Willow.

Ron nearly fell to the ground. "A collie! You've kept her away from any loos… right mate?" He asked Harry, smiling a bit as they began sprinting after her, struggling to keep up with her quick, efficient four-legged strides.

"She did have to drink the potion from a bowl… but that was more functional than anything… Still, it's weird though… I keep imaging having to take her for a walk…" Harry admitted as they ran.

Ron chuckled, his breathing coming much easier than the drained Harry's, "Wouldn't mind it myself…I'd be like, 'Here girl!' Go fetch Snape's drawers!"

Harry tried to smile but it came out as more of a grimace as he fell further behind his friend.

"Will Remus be alright?" Ron asked suddenly over his shoulder to Harry, half hunched over due to the low graveled ceiling of the tunnel, bits of roots grabbing at their hair and cloaks as they ran.

"He should be…he's… used to recuperating there afterall," Harry called out, his breath now labored with growing fatigue. He didn't know where he was finding the energy to continue at this mad pace, but from somewhere deep within him, he felt a growing fire and knew that, whatever it was, it was connected to him somehow.

Hermione pulled up at the end of the tunnel, dull silvery light reflecting off her glossy coat as she reared back on her haunches and transformed back into the studious bushy-haired bookworm.

"Get the Cloak ready, Harry," Hermione panted as she reached her hand out and groped for the knot that would immobilize the berserk tree, the only way to really enjoy the Whomping Willow. "And if either of you so much as bring a leash within ten feet of me, I'll bite you."

They laughed nervously, unsure if she was joking or not, and wordlessly slinked out from under the now subdued menace. Still under the paralyzed branches, Harry threw the Cloak over the three of them, and they continued towards the castle in silence. The trio was so used to the Cloak that they moved quite efficiently as one, even in the cramped quarters.

Once through the majestic oak doors, they proceeded quickly up towards Dumbledore's Office, their only encounter along the way with a disheveled Draco Malfoy as he almost plowed into their invisible train. He appeared frantic, as though searching for someone, his normally slicked back hair coming up in awkward heaps and his usually icy blue eyes, wide and fearful. The trio managed to shift away in time to go around him undetected, continuing on their way to the Gargoyles and leaving the floundering Draco to his own devices as he was the least of their problems at the moment.

Fawkes greeted them with an impressive spread of his flaming plumage and clicked his pointed beak as they entered the Headmaster's otherwise vacant office.

Hermione heaved a relieved sigh. "At least we know Dumbledore's not dead."

"How do you know that?" Ron asked.

"Honestly," Hermione sighed as she dashed around, searching for floo powder. She absently waved a hand toward the myriads of former Heads whose portraits lined the crowded walls of the office. Most were snoring loudly but a few would sneak an occasional peek every now and then at the trio. "If you had ever taken the time to read, 'Hogwarts, A History,' you would know that the late Headmaster's portrait appears in this office immediately upon his demise."

Harry gently grabbed Hermione's arm, and before she could protest, quietly handed her the pouch of floo powder. "Do we expect Professor Dumbledore to be dead, Hermione?" Harry asked softly, an eyebrow upraised at her cryptic behavior and the growing dread she was permeating throughout the office.

"Dumbledore made the wards on my parents' house himself. He would know when they went off and for him not to show up means that something must be preventing him from coming." Hermione explained brokenly, glaring at the pouch and then pointedly leveling her eyes with Harry's. "You know that when Dumbledore said he was going to the Ministry to do recon, what he really meant was that he was going as a diversion to give us the time we needed. He sees himself as expendable to the cause." Hermione ran a hand through her tangled hair and sighed before she rounded on Ron and asked, "Where are the members of the DA you managed to gather?"

His mouth slightly agape, Ron stumbled, "They're uh…patrolling throughout the castle. We were using disallusionment charms and agreed we'd raise the red flag by sending off a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes firework." At Harry and Hermione's stares of disbelief, Ron muttered defensively, "Ought to have gotten everyone's attention at least…"

"Wait," Harry said to Ron. "You did manage to give them the _Felix Felicis_, right?" He asked, envisioning a Death Eater attack on the nearly defenseless school with only a handful of DA members standing in their way.

"Yea," Ron replied, "Ginny split it up amongst them and they should be good for a few hours."

That settled, Hermione prepared to throw the powder into the flames of Dumbledore's large hearth but Harry stopped her. "You can't honestly be expecting us to traipse off to London on some hair-brained rescue attempt!"

The irony not lost on anyone, least of all Hermione, she murmured, "I told you so once, I don't want to have to do it again tomorrow."

The office throbbed with silence at her words, the sore subject freezing the protest in Harry's mouth.

Whatever the danger, whatever the mystery, whatever the evil, Harry knew that he trusted Hermione with his life. And if going to London gave them even the slightest chance of keeping Dumbledore alive, than they really had no other choice. It wasn't like the Order would be able to assemble in time; Dumbledore had probably made sure that they had more important missions that night than saving his life.

"And your plan when we walk into this trap?" he asked as he stepped up beside her, looking into the hearth and showing he was ready to follow.

Her eyes softened as she nodded at him. "You'll have to fly to the Ministry and check to see what situation Dumbledore is in. If he is under attack, no one will be able to apparate in or out. Ron and I can try to reach the others as you're doing that and I have to stay with my parents. Something obviously tripped that ward…"

Ron stepped up on Hermione's other side with a skeptic look. "Uh, Hermione… I don't mean to rain on your…whatever, but you mind going back to the part where Harry flies again? I don't think You-Know-Who would miss his arch-nemesis charging in on a broomstick over the Thames."

Realization hit Harry like a bludger. He ran a rough hand over his face before staring even more skeptically at Hermione than Ron had. "You think _now_ is a good time, Hermione? Really!"

Hermione nodded, pleased that Harry had caught on, while Ron looked on in growing confusion.

"You don't even know I'll be a bird!" Harry cried indignantly.

He had thought as much, but it just seemed too fantastical, that he could transform this very night even more so.

"The speed, the feeling of lightness, the warmth, your natural affinity towards flight…you're a bird, Harry," Hermione declared. "You need to accept that and focus on those sensations. As a bird, you can get to the Ministry from my house very quickly and it won't raise any alarms."

Harry thought Hermione must have suffered some brain damage during all that levitating he'd put her through and looked to Ron for support, but Ron looking like he agreed with Hermione and suddenly exclaimed, "Yea!" quickly coming around to the idea as he thumped Harry on the back. "Just wing it, mate! It'll be brilliant!"

Harry rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh before looking down. "What if I can't?" Hermione's absolute faith was beginning to terrify him.

"You have to," Hermione said simply, laying a hand firmly on his shoulder and turning him toward the fireplace.

Phineas Nigellus Black poked out the corner of his frame as Hermione threw the powder into the Hearth and commanded, "GRANGER RESIDENCE!"

"Those hopeless idiots…" he said, just as the trio disappeared in a flash of green flames. The other portraits murmured their agreements.

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The emerald fire licked at their heels as the trio toppled onto the white carpet of the Granger's modest sitting room. Ron took in the lilac patterned couch, matching chairs, and the quaint television with fascination as Harry and Hermione scrambled up and sought out her parents.

Mr. Granger- Dan- Harry reminded himself, was just entering the room at that moment, looking tireless in a rumpled oxford and creased brown trousers. His narrow face relaxed as he spotted his daughter and they quickly embraced. "Hermione, I'm so glad to see you, honey…" he murmured into her crackling hair.

Hermione pulled back a bit, still clutching her father's arms. "I was so worried about you. Where's mum?"

"I'm right here, Hermione!" Mrs. Granger cried, a blur as she entered and threw herself at her daughter, the two hugging tightly. Emma Granger was wearing a sensible midnight blue robe and looked as though she'd been preparing for bed when the alarm had gone off, for there were curlers in her light brown hair.

"Good to see you again, Harry," Dan greeted, clasping Harry on the shoulder in familiarity and then peering over at Ron who was just getting to his feet. "And you must be Hermione's other friend she talks so much about, Ronald Beasley, right?"

"Weasley, sir," Ron said, a bit intimidated as Harry had been during his first proper meeting with Hermione's parents. Hermione, now released from her mother's rather impressive grip, smiled in mirth at Ron's predicament as she went to the mantle to examine the object that Dumbledore had tied to the wards.

"Ah, very good," Dan said, taking Ron's hand and giving it a firm shake. "You can call myself and the misses, Mr. and Mrs. Granger."

Harry coughed a bit to hide his laugh. With how open Hermione was with her parents, she probably hadn't skimped on any of the ups and downs of her friendship with the red-haired, and presently red-faced Ron.

Ron, his blue eyes as wide as Millicent's forehead, just nodded a bunch and said, "Uh…thank you, sir?"

Emma came over to them and Ron quickly said, "Hello, Mrs. Granger." He took the initiative, very unlike Ron, and grasped her hand energetically, saying, "I'm Hermione's friend, Ron Weasley."

Emma, while not cold, did not especially sound welcoming when she replied, "I know who you are, dear." She then turned to Harry, a genuine smile on her lips as she enveloped him in a crushing hug and said, "Harry! They're terrible circumstances, but I'm so pleased to see you again!"

Slightly embarrassed, Harry returned the hug, a stray curler hitting him in the face as he pulled back and said, "It's nice to see you too, Mrs. Granger."

"Now none of that!" she reprimanded, the smile still lighting her pretty face. "It's Emma, remember."

Ron stumbled a bit out the corner of Harry's vision as Harry dutifully nodded, feeling a little bad for his friend. "Yes, ma'm."

"Mum, dad," Hermione started, her eyes nervously flitting between Harry, Ron, and her parents, "From what I can tell, it seems as though the wards were malfunctioning like you thought. Why don't you two take a moment and show Ron around while I speak with Harry. He's got to run an important errand for the Headmaster and really has to fly."

They nodded and Dan began to lead a peaky looking Ron toward the kitchen as Harry heard Emma say, "Why don't we get you a cup of tea first, Ronald. You look like you could use some." Ron looked back at Harry and Hermione just before disappearing into the kitchen with a look of, '_why me_?' plastered in comic fear across his face.

"_Fly_…? Oh har har," Harry said dryly as Hermione tugged him toward the front door. He stopped her at the entranceway and, pausing to check that the Grangers were out of earshot, he asked, "What do you really make of the wards, Hermione?"

Clasping and unclasping her hands in front of her, Hermione answered, "They're functioning perfectly, Harry…" She then opened the door, "…and that's why you need to go to Dumbledore, _immediately_."

"It's not going to happen…" Harry began but was rudely cut off as Hermione rather forcibly pushed him out.

Harry spun around. "Hey! Watch…"

But he found her incredibly close and her face incredibly determined as she brokered no room for argument. "No, you listen. You're going to transform, Harry."

"Yea, you said, 'because I have to.' I was there." Harry knew he was being obstinate, but he just couldn't imagine possibly transforming with Dumbledore's life possibly in danger and with so little time to prepare himself.

Hermione took a steadying breath and a short step back to distance herself, possibly from throttling him, before she replied evenly, "Okay, remember back in our third year when you conjured a Patronus for the first time?"

"How could I forget? It was one of the many lovely nights where we almost died…"

Hermione ignored his attempt at humor and went on, "You thought it had been your dad at first, but then you realized as we stood there on that bank, watching you from the other side of the lake slowly being drained of life, that it had actually been you because you knew you'd already done it."

Harry's jaw tightened and he looked away. _Only Hermione…_ "You want me to imagine that I've already transformed."

"Only don't imagine. Just know it. Sense it. Feel the way your wings spread as you catch the air. Feel the wind ruffling your feathers as you glide through it," she whispered, trying very hard to sound confident and encouraging but looking as frayed and exhausted as Harry felt.

Seeing her then, her resilience in the face of all they'd already seen and been through that night- her determination as she'd swam through the icy water into the blackened cave, her bravery as she'd lapped up the potion, her will-power as she must have woken up alone in the alley and dragged Remus back to the Shack by herself…an intense wave of warmth spread throughout Harry's body, from his core to his fingertips, and he knew…

Harry closed the small distance Hermione had opened with a quick, sure step. She looked up at him, curiosity and weariness peppering the dark folds of her familiar brown eyes. His heartbeat accelerating at a phenomenal pace, he leaned down till his mouth was level with hers and only inches from her slightly parted chapped lips. "You've got it all wrong, Hermione…" he murmured slowly, savoring the intimate way her name sounded, his emotions now focused on the somewhat frantic, surging beat within him. "Flying feels like this…" he muttered absently with his lips directly over hers before they, finally, both gave into the glazed-over darkness in each other's eyes and leaned through the last precious hairsbreadth between them to kiss. Their ragged exhaustion gave way to zealotry as his tongue explored and her teeth glanced along his bottom lip hungrily.

It was like an electrical current shot through his spine then, forcing him to violently wrench away from her. Hermione looked slightly hurt only to cover her mouth in shock with one hand as she stared at him.

With his heart pounding in his ears so badly he felt they must surely burst at any moment, his body compressed, as though under dozens of feet of water. Blearily, he tried to keep Hermione's anxious face in his somewhat limited line of sight, but the sensations forced him to close his eyes. He felt his legs disappear out from under him, the memory of how long and fast they could run like that of a ghost. He felt his skin pucker and expand as thousands of downy blades sprung forth from his confused and agitated pores. He felt his nose and mouth become rigid and fused, like they had been pressed into a sharp point. He felt that ever-present, searing fire expand, grow, and burst, the ocean he had felt back in the cave nothing compared to the reservoir bearing down on him at present.

And then it was over and he felt himself standing on Hermione's front door step once more, a late spring breeze ruffling the new texture of his exterior. He slowly opened his eyes and took in how much lower he was, Hermione peering down at him with awe from several feet above. She said something, perhaps, 'You okay?' but it was murky and almost unintelligible to his new hearing.

Harry, from so far below her, yelled, "Yes, just feeling a bit out of sorts though!" Only…it didn't come out at all. Instead, all Harry heard was chirping.

He craned his neck down in excitement and then felt his heart sink…

He had feathers…he could see looking down a bit and focusing that he did indeed have a beak as well… but he wasn't much to look at. His body was compact, the same jet-black color as his hair, and peering all the way-180 degrees (which was one of the more bazaar sensations to being a bird)- to his backside and shaking his bottom a bit, he could see that his tail was fashioned in a slight 'v' shape, like a tiny boomerang. He must have overbalanced too much though, trying to see his tail, because the next thing he knew, he was on his side, flapping his powerful black wings a bit pathetically to right himself. His legs were so weak…

Hermione bent down and gently scooped him up in her hands, holding him before her face. Very carefully, she whispered, "You're a Swift, Harry."

A Swift? He might as well have been a bloody pigeon! Harry clicked his beak in annoyance before cocking his head to the side to view her face better. It might not be so bad, he thought after a moment, noticing how extraordinarily clear his new eyesight was- this was the first time he could remember that he didn't need glasses.

"…you've got to go, Harry. Dumbledore could be in terrible danger. Get as close to the Ministry's street opening as possible before you transform back."

Seeing his lack of enthusiasm, Hermione added, "You know you're very lucky to be a Swift. They're excellent flyers… quite fast, and they're nothing out of place in Britain this time of year. Seeing one fly over the Thames wouldn't even cause Moody to pause."

Harry nodded, considering this and then rubbed his feathered head against her palm as the best way he could of saying goodbye.

Showing a disregard for Bird Flu that would have had Aunt Petunia fainting all over her pristine kitchen, Hermione pressed a soft kiss to Harry's head. "Good luck!" She cried, raising her hands high and letting Harry go.

This was it… he was going to fly… he was going to…

CRASH!

Harry shook his head and rearranged the awkward angle his wings had taken as he tried to convince himself that Hermione might not have seen his absolute rubbish failure.

"That wasn't at all graceful… was it?" Hermione asked, scooping him up once more from the manicured grass. "You ready to try again?"

Harry took a surprisingly deep breath- more satisfying than any gasp he could remember taking as a human. As Hermione once more raised him high and released, he stopped concentrating on anything in particular and allowed instinct to take over.

It was like when he first mounted a broomstick…only better. The sense of freedom he felt was absolute, and, looking back down at the shrinking urban lawn, he felt like he wasn't tied down. He gained a bit more altitude and then circled over Hermione's head once, released a scream he didn't think his tiny body could have possibly managed, and then flew off over the older houses and their evenly spaced lawns. He caught an updraft and went higher until he was flying over whole neighborhoods, maybe not as fast his _Firebolt_, but easily surpassing his old _Nimbus 2000_. Finally, his keen eyes locked on the bright lights of London and the large target the London Eye made.

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From the outskirts of London where Hermione's family lived, Harry streaked, the ground below him changing from the calm uniformity of suburbia to the bustling rainbow lights of the city. Barely ten minutes after his departure, Harry was already passing over the bright blues of Tower Bridge, and fast approaching the London Eye, which that night glowed an ominous Slytherin green.

As the yellows of Westminster Palace came into view, far beneath which, Harry's destination of the Ministry of Magic lay, another color caught his Swift eyes. Many flashes, predominantly red, were ascending the windows of Big Ben. Those lights were unmistakable to Harry- they were the lights of a wizard's duel.

Harry was so shocked to see a duel in the muggle's capitol building that he only narrowly escaped hitting one of the Eye's thick cables. He continued across the Thames and circled the tower as the lights reached the clock room, brilliantly shining through the four faces and giving the tower a tri-color effect. The Death Eaters must have prevented apparition in the area and cornered Dumbledore, forcing him to fight as he went upwards through both magic and then muggle ministries.

Harry scoured the tower one circle further, found his opening through the slits at the top in the belfry and dove in sideways, his dynamic form passing seamlessly into the most renowned Clock Tower in the world. Instinctively realizing the logistical nightmare of trying to support himself with his puny legs, Harry settled along the trappings of the bell, his feet made to cling to the sides of things, and concentrated on the explosions and flashes of light going off below him.

His limited hearing struggled to decipher words and shouts until a woman screamed, the agitated, maniacal sort you would expect from someone like Bellatrix Lestrange…

Harry lost his footing and fell to the floor, his wings ineffectual as he couldn't right himself. Knowing there was no other way, Harry ceased his thrashing and calmed himself, forcing his mind to focus on his legs, on walking and running and the feel of a broomstick. He concentrated on holding a fork and eating roast mutton in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione the same size as him. He felt the quill in his hand as he wrote and he smelt with clarity the rancid stench of a dungbomb as the twins released it.

Then he was feeling the hard floor beneath his back and smelling the smoke of the burnt wood below him. His body returned to human, Harry heard, with dreaded certainty this time, the screech of Bellatrix as she cackled in a high pitch chant, "Dumby, Dumby, DUMBY! No place to go…no place to hide…no ickle phoenix to escape by…no bitty Potter to protect…only see a TIRED, OLD, MAN!"

Another Death Eater, Rudolphus or Avery this time as the voice sounded entirely too controlled and measured to be anyone but- and it certainly wasn't Lucius, as Harry knew his oily voice anywhere- murmured, almost directly beneath where Harry lay, "There's no escape, Dumbledore. You might have stopped Malfoy's brat from letting us in your precious castle- a task my owl could just as well have performed- but you're surrounded now and very, very alone…" the voice trailed off in a menacing whisper, sending shivers down Harry's spine to remind him how wrong the speaker was.

Dumbledore wasn't alone; he had Harry.

Harry scrambled to his feet, fought a brief moment of dizziness, and then quickly scanned his surroundings, taking in the narrow meshed walls he'd flown in by and the large bells that could ring at any moment now. Harry found the small ladder leading downward just as he heard Dumbledore's voice for the first time, sounding strained yet benevolent, as though the Death Eaters were precocious second years trying to get a taste of forbidden firewhiskey. "I couldn't possibly be less alone, Rudolph. I'm here with so many of my charming former students…and I dare say young Draco did what none of you could."

"What did Mr. Malfoy do this time?" a low voice, slick as his hair was greasy, intoned. Snape sounded as though he were bored to tears, a fact that terrified Harry far more than the psychotic Bellatrix or the vague threats of her husband.

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak from deep within his pocket and hurriedly threw it over himself, his wand clutched tight in the hand not holding the cloak to him. He stealthily crawled down the ladder, a few errant spells from the fight below only narrowly missing to either side of him. Amazingly, he made it to the bottom still undetected, and looked about. He could see around a half dozen of Voldemort's most faithful followers sending spells towards one focal point.

Harry could now see Dumbledore, his back up against one of the huge clock faces, its gears gyrating around the waning Headmaster like a hundred angry mouths. Bellatrix stood the closest to Dumbledore, her large black eyes riveted to him unblinkingly as a wolf would a lamb. Her nostrils flared as though she smelt blood; she hurled one curse after another, each expertly blocked.

The others did the same- though they lacked Bellatrix's glee- waiting for Dumbledore to make a mistake, but so far, he hadn't. He looked exhausted, the violet robes he wore matching the bags under his wrinkled blue eyes. His half-moon spectacles were nowhere to be seen and his gray hair was looking whiter than ever. Staring unblinkingly at Snape, Dumbledore finally answered, "He did the right thing…"

Harry paled at the injustice of the scene before him. He wanted so badly to destroy the Death Eaters, every last one of them, for picking on a defeated old man, for thinking their bullying was something heroic, but he knew he was just as likely to get in Dumbledore's way as he was to help.

It was at that moment that Big Ben decided to announce to London that it was midnight. The tower exploded with thunder as the bell rang from overhead like the detonation of a thousand muggle bombs. The resounding cacophony momentarily startled the Death Eaters, but Snape never took his eyes off of the Headmaster. He raised his wand, disarming the old man before him, and caught the latter's wand nimbly in his right hand. Everyone except for the two men in question were stunned, and Harry, seeing his mentor stand defenseless with Snape's wand pointed at his heart, numbly raised his own towards the person he despised above all others.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

"_EXPELLIAMUS_!"

As the largest bell in the tower gave its first of twelve rings, the green light of the killing curse exploded in front of Dumbledore and the Headmaster's back shattered through the glass of the clock face as he was thrown bodily towards the river far below. The immense shatter of Big Ben's defacing was lost in the booming sound of the remaining bells as they chimed again and again without remorse.

The stream of red energy from Harry's wand arrived only fractions of a second too late, knocking Snape clear off his feet and sending the wand in his right hand flying toward Harry as Snape's own wand fell several feet away.

Dumbledore's limp form careened through the night sky for an ageless eternity before finally plummeting, like a great rag doll, toward the serene black water of the Thames.

Harry felt as though he too were hurtling through space, lost to the velvety oblivion.

…_it had not happened…it could not have happened…_

In disbelief and outrage, Harry rushed forward and threw his Invisibility Cloak aside. Terror tore at Harry's heart…he had to get to Dumbledore and he had to get to Snape…somehow the two were linked in his mind in a concerted effort to keep him going; to keep him from remaining paralyzed forever in shock and fear.

However, Snape was a good dozen feet away and not the only Death Eater to contend with. The moment Harry stepped out of invisibility, the others, knowing someone was around to cast the disarmer at Snape, were ready and sent a barrage of '_Crucios_!' '_Stupifies_!' and even a few green jets of '_Avada Kedavra_!' in Harry's direction.

Ridiculously overwhelmed and his brain screaming at him to find Dumbledore, to help him, to make sure he wasn't alone…Harry did the only thing he could think of- he ran to where Dumbledore had flown out the clock face and dove.

The varied streams of light shot out just over his messy hair as Harry fell face first toward the concrete dockway between Big Ben and the Thames. His only thoughts of getting to Dumbledore in time, Harry spread his arms, fixed his gaze on a brief bob of light coming from the inky still river, and closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath and releasing it once his black wings wrenched upward.

He quickly leveled them and flattened his sleek feathered form as close to the water as possible when the shouts of the Death Eaters far above him sounded. Harry spared a brief glance up at the now destroyed Thames side of the Tower, where the clock face exposed a gaping hole, looking as though it had been ripped out by a Giant. With his sharp eyes, Harry could make out Bellatrix and Snape scouring the pavement and the river just before Parliament with perplexed looks about their faces, something not normally seen from either. Finally, just before Harry flew beneath the bridge, an emerald green skull with a snake slithering about his mouth exploded over the tower as, one by one, the Death Eaters disapparated away in puffs of black, cruel smoke.

Harry accelerated, leaving the muggles to think what they would of the skull, snake, and ruined clock face as he scanned the water for any flash of Dumbledore. Nearly to the water adjacent with the London Eye, its green glow casting a faint light upon the water, Harry caught a glimpse of white and dove for it.

As his slight body sliced into the water, Harry felt the sensation of the icy water before the cave and recalled the way his body had navigated it. He concentrated on it so hard, red sticky liquid mixed with the river water before his face- his _human_ face- and he began to use his now greatly expanded arms to dive after the fleeting light he had seen.

It was hard to see anything, but Dumbledore's whitened beard floated like a peaceful flag of surrender underwater as his violet robes billowed about him. Dumbledore's brilliant blue eyes were open, still pleading for a respite that had already been dealt. Harry reached out and slowly, gently, closed each of them before wrapping his arm around the greatest wizard he had ever, or would ever, know, and used his wand to spring them quickly to the surface.

Feeling strangely detached, as though he were watching events unfold from a stranger's point of view, Harry, for the second time that night, concentrated the stranger's thoughts and willed them into apparation. He didn't register the horrible feeling of being squeezed through a thick rubber tube; he didn't care that for an instant, he was suffocating, he didn't feel the compression that weighed down every part of his being, and he didn't notice when the invisible bands burst open to expel him onto the dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack where everything suddenly swirled into nothingness.

He only saw brilliant blue.

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"_Harry… Harry…wake up_," a far off voice whispered somewhere on the edge of Harry's consciousness. He felt as though both the voice and he were still underwater, movement and sound hampered.

Dull browns, grays, and the ever present blackness assaulted Harry's bleary vision as he painfully cracked open his eyes. They were feeling especially blood-shot and deprived of tears.

The small flecks of amber dancing in Lupin's eyes were the first thing that swam into focus as the rest of his face soon came, followed by the fact that their positions were now reversed- Harry was in the grungy bed, and Remus was the one looking after him, tipping the last reserves of chocolaty water into his parched mouth.

There was moisture on the werewolf's cheeks, but before Harry could think to ask him about it, Remus croaked and Harry realized belatedly that Lupin hadn't been whispering before out of courtesy, the former DADA Professor's voice just simply was out. "There you go…good lad. Drink it all down…" Harry greedily gulped down the last and sputtered a bit, some of it going down the wrong pipe. "_Easy…_" Lupin brushed a hand over Harry's head; the action soothing and Harry idly wondered if that was how it was supposed to feel when your dad took care of you.

The inane thought squashed, Harry tried to ask, 'What happened?' but all that came out was an unintelligible mumble. He cleared his throat and tried once more. "….Why are you crying?"

Fresh tears burst to the rim of Lupin's unique eyes. "You're in shock right now, Harry. You've been out for only ten minutes."

Confused, Harry tried to sit up, failed, and asked, "Why would I be in shock?"

Remus stood up and shifted over so that the dark silhouette lying so still on the floor, covered in a dusty sheet Harry now registered to be absent from his bed, was visible.

_The potion…the inferi…the Horcrux…the thundering tower…the lifeless blue eyes…_

Harry closed his eyes away from the memories but they continued to attack him relentlessly. Stubbornly, almost making him want to scream, his tears still refused to come.

When he could no longer take the quiet, Harry pushed himself to a sitting position and said, in so small a voice he might as well have been talking in his Swift form, "What do we do now?"

Remus stared at the sheet in the center of the room for a long moment and then heaved a weary sigh. "That depends on how much Voldemort knows…"

"They saw Dumbledore fly through the clock face and into the river. I'm not sure if they saw my face or not…"

"Who…" Remus stifled a sob and continued through clenched teeth, "Who did this?"

Forgetting his exhaustion and his pain, Harry swung onto wobbly legs and said, with as much venom as his heart could muster, "_Snape_."

Lupin said nothing but looked extremely murderous in the ashen light.

"I need to get back to Hermione and Ron…they're at her parent's house," Harry said, weaving his way drunkenly toward the stairs, his goal the hidden passageway.

"You're too weak, Harry…" Remus croaked. "Here…" he grabbed Harry's arm, steadying him. "I can apparate us…I've been there, remember?"

"But you're too weak…we'll be splinched," Harry argued without any real fervor, already preparing himself for the compression, eager to be away from the quiet, eerie sheet in the center of the room and back with his friends. He wasn't sure how he would tell them of Dumbledore, but he knew that just being with them would keep the empty feeling growing inside him at bay.

"One…two…" Remus turned them after two and they apparated, both green around the gills as the compression released them onto the Granger's front lawn.

At first, Harry thought it was an effect of the apparation, but soon, he realized with terror gnawing through him to the bone that the embers and cracked beams before him was indeed the remnants of Hermione's house.

Burnt flesh assailed his nostrils and he quickly had to cover his mouth.

Remus, finally coming out of a similar stupor, rushed to action and began rummaging through the wreckage like a mad man, not aware that the debris he touched was burning through his own flesh.

Numbly, Harry followed in Remus's wake and verged off, casting '_Aguamenti_' absently when he came across a still blazing flame. He carefully stepped over a piece of the staircase and choked back a sob when he saw the corner of a picture frame with snow peeking out at the remnants. The charred edge of a pink earmuff was just visible.

From the shattered glass edges of the frame, Harry vaguely acknowledged the green skull and snake floating above the remains of the house.

Harry continued to walk aimlessly for a few moments, in a haze of emotions too painful to fathom, when he tripped over something and fell flat on his face, the dying embers throughout embedding themselves in his cheek and searing his flesh. Blood burst freely from his nose due to the impact with the ground but Harry just gaped at the thing that had tripped him.

It was a charred pile of ash and sinew, and at one end, a curler balanced, half submerged in the ilk.

Sick, Harry flinched away only to stick his hand in another pile, the two joined together in a thin band that he hadn't noticed before.

"HARRY!" Remus shouted.

His stomach doing its own apparation, Harry weakly turned toward Remus who was hunched over something a good thirty feet away at where the backyard had once stood. On trembling legs, each step feeling like he was wading further and further into Devil's Snare, Harry made his way to Remus.

There was red everywhere, but mostly, Harry's heart leapt at the red hair.

Ron was covered in gashes, his life force gushing about him in thick waves; the places that remained unscathed a startling white contrast. Harry fell to his knees beside his best friend and felt for a pulse, hope all he had left now.

Nothing…nothing…and then…and then there was a beat. And then nothing…and then another faint beat.

"He's alive!" Harry's hoarse voice croaked out in triumph.

Remus nodded grimly and continued methodically running his wand over the cuts, murmuring so low that Harry couldn't hear what incantation he was using. Finally satisfied that Ron wouldn't bleed out, Remus said, "This was Snape's spell. _Sectumsempra_."

Harry nodded bleakly, he too aware of the Half-Blood Prince's handiwork when he saw it.

Sirens wailed in the distance, and as their anguish drew nearer, Remus grabbed Ron's still form and looked up. "We have to go, Harry. Grab my hand."

"But what about Hermione? She has to be here too!" Harry shouted desperately, his numbness fading with the realization of Ron's survival. He jumped to trembling legs and prepared to tear down the rest of the house in search for her but the werewolf forcibly grabbed Harry's wrist.

"She's not here, Harry. There's no time," Lupin said firmly before apparating, the three of them disappearing into the merciless night.

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Not caring who would see them now, the three apparated just outside the wrought iron gates of Hogwarts. Harry staggered a bit, but kept his feet, his entire being focused now on keeping Ron alive. Remus immediately raised his wand high and sent up a shower of red and gold sparks. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Hagrid came running to the gate a minute later, all of them looking anxious.

"What has happened, Remus?" McGonagall asked, her face shocked as she took in Ron's miserable state and Lupin and Harry's fatigued and empty expressions. Flitwick quickly opened the gates and Hagrid grabbed Ron from them as they altogether began quickly walking back to the castle.

Remus secured the gate behind them. "Not here." His voice cracked as the words came out harsher than the werewolf probably meant for them to. "We need to get Ron to Madame Pomfrey…"

The Mediwitch was understandably upset when Hagrid deposited Ron's pale and bloodied body on one of her beds. She glared at Harry who only stared blankly back but was soon too busy mending the youngest Weasley boy to nag.

Remus, Flitwick, and McGonagall's voices buzzed over Harry's head unintelligibly as he sat beside his friend, his hand over Ron's wrist, reassuring himself over and over with the beat he felt there. He wasn't aware when Tonks arrived, but was mildly surprised to feel her hand on his shoulder, and see her bubblegum pink hair turn a somber black before his eyes as a tear leaked down her cheek. "Remus just told me, Harry…" she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Harry mutely nodded and turned his sights back to the rise and fall of Ron's chest.

From the other side of the bed, Remus pulled up a chair. Tonks quietly, without tripping or skidding once, maneuvered herself around the hospital bed and sat on Remus's lap, facing him. Without a word, she put her hands around his neck and buried her face in the hollow of his throat.

Harry, unaware of their relationship, didn't say anything but watched as Remus heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, his arms enfolding her.

The three sat that way for a long time, ages it felt, before a cracked murmur uttered, "_Herm…_

Harry sat up, his eyes wide open as he eagerly looked down to see that Ron was attempting to speak, his red hair slicked back from the sponging Madame Pomfrey had given to take away some of the blood and ash matted in it. Ron's eyes were panicked and kept flicking back and forth in a twitching manner.

Tonks pushed herself from Remus's lap and shouted, "Oi! Madame P! We need some more pain potion over here!" as she skidded over to Madame Pomfrey's station.

Ron made Harry jump when he grabbed Harry's arm, rather tightly, and begged, his eyes haunted, "_Please don't make me! Anything but that…_"

Harry, his heart pounding, unclenched Ron's fingers and laid his hand gently over them. "Where's Hermione, Ron?"

Ron's eyes focused directly on Harry's for a brief instant before they resumed their mad twitching. "Bella-trix…" he groaned, "is a right nasty bitch."

"Tell us something we don't know…" a new voice said from behind Harry. He turned around and saw Ginny, looking extremely concerned as she stared down at her brother. She ran a hand through his slicked hair and added, "What'd she do to you?"

Behind Ginny stood Luna and Neville. Neville's eyes were wide and he still had his wand clenched in his fist. Luna was gazing at Ron, her blonde hair braided up rather strangely in elegant spirals, one on each side of her head.

Ron clamped his frantic eyes shut and his face broke, the tears streaming down his temples and onto the crisp white pillow. "She was going to make me kill them…" he finally said at length.

"Who?" Ginny asked, startled, but Harry already knew.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger…" Ron whispered, his eyes still fiercely shut. "She put the _Imperius_ on me…she told me to kill them…she wanted to make Hermione watch as I did it…" Ron's eyes sprung open and he howled, the noise tearing through everyone's nerves like paper until Luna stepped up and calmly covered his mouth with her hand.

She comfortingly patted his forehead, rather like Hermione would pat Crookshanks', and then said, her dreamy voice sewing Ron's frayed edges together, "But you didn't, Ronald…"

She said it with such assurance that she might have been declaring Dumbledore alive and well sitting in his office at that very moment, and Harry would have believed her. Luna continued to stroke Ron's forehead until a ragged sigh escaped his lips. "No…" Ron breathed, his tears finally stopping as he seemed to be regaining control over himself. "I didn't… I was strong- it hurt like hell to fight her- but it was like I was somewhere else. Like on a plain or something…"

"A muggle airplane? You've never been on one of those…" Ginny said, confused.

"No," Ron winced as he sat up, Remus and Harry helping him. "A _grassy_ plain… and I owned it. It was my brain's way of ignoring her." Ron looked pleadingly to Harry. "But I couldn't save them…and Hermione…Hermione…." he hiccupped. "She was so scared. I was rolling on the floor, tall grass clogging my senses of the _Imperius_. It felt like my brain was melting inside my head but I knew that Hermione was still there too with that ugly bastard, Avery, holding his wand to her throat. He had his filthy hand gripped around her chin, forcing her to watch while Bellatrix and Macnair tortured and then _Avada Kedavra-ed_ her parents right in front of her."

"What happened to her?" Harry whispered fearfully, his breath frozen.

Tortured, Ron replied, "They took her with them. I watched Avery apparate away with her and just before the rest of them were going to go, Bellatrix turned toward me again and said she was going to fry me good…" and here Ron's eyes glanced regretfully to Neville, whose face was white. "Said she'd leave me like the Longbottoms…."

Jaggedly, Neville inhaled, and then walked to the windows, his face away from the rest of the group. Ginny delicately stepped over a bit to place a steady hand on Neville's shaking shoulders, as Ron hoarsely continued. "But then Snape said he felt You-Know-Who calling them back and demanded that they go. He and Bellatrix had a bit of a row in front of everyone before she turned to me said, _'I'll just put the filthy blood-traitor down then…' _She was going to do it too, but Snape threw some slicing spell at me, making Macnair and a few others cheer. He said, 'Weasley, if he lives, can tell Potter that the…' you know what they called her… 'will be returned when he surrenders himself to the Dark Lord,' and then they disappeared and I thought I'd really died there…"

Just as Ron's cracked voice trailed off, a new one, obnoxious and sneering, called from the entrance to the hospital wing, "I was trying to warn you last night, but as usual, you rushed off without thinking before I could find you. So now apparently, Granger's a hostage and Weaselby barely isn't a vegetable. Where's Dumpy-dore? Isn't this the part where he sweeps in and saves you lot?"

Harry got up from his seat and walked straight up to Malfoy, not pausing at all before slugging the snide smirk off the Slytherin's pointed face. "YOU KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN?"

"Eeey!" Draco yelled indignantly. He spit out some blood onto Madame Pomfrey's immaculate floor. "I didn't know any details, I just knew there would be some sort of attack when the Dark Lord realized my cabinets had been destroyed. Dumbledore brought my mum here and promised he'd keep us both safe. I'm all for the old coot, now. I'm just asking where he is, is all. No need to go all _muggle_ on me."

Everyone in the room shared a look, knowing the horrible truth and not quite sure what to tell Malfoy. Finally, Remus moved, pulling Harry away firmly and saying, "He's going on extended leave to the continent."

Harry didn't think this was the smartest of excuses, but he didn't question as Remus went on, "I presume that this amnesty the Headmaster granted you was for destroying your cabinets?"

Draco nodded, eyeing his former Professor with a slightly curled lip. "And now he's on….what was it you called it? Ah, yea…_extended leave_, how convenient…"

It was Hagrid that tried to get to Draco that time, but Remus put a hand up to the big man, quieting him. "The Headmaster hasn't left yet, _however_. He'll be addressing the students tomorrow about arrangements and I'm sure he'll let you know what's going to happen with your mom and you."

Shocked at what Remus was suggesting, Harry went and sat back down heavily next to Ron, a fierce headache forming.

McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Tonks all eyed Remus with varying degrees of the same, poor Hagrid looking almost hopeful.

When Draco finally left them, McGonagall rounded on her former colleague and asked, "And what was the meaning of _that_, Remus?"

"I still have some of the Polyjuice Potion that Snape brewed…"

"You can't be suggesting what I think you're…." McGonagall began but Remus cut her off.

"We have a castle full of students and an entire nation out there that needs to know that Dumbledore is alive and well. Harry said that the Death Eaters weren't positive whether they'd killed Dumbledore or not. We'll use that to our advantage."

"What about the school?" Luna asked everyone suddenly.

"The wards that protect it have been in place for a long time. Dumbledore added considerable defenses of his own, but with him gone…we will be somewhat vulnerable, if only to someone of He-Who-Musn't-Be-Named's caliber," Flitwick explained, his high-pitched voice sounding especially pinched.

"So we'll have Remus, as the fake Dumbledore, step down, announce he's going on some cockamamie trip about Europe…"

"To search for Nargles…" Luna added, not very helpfully.

Tonks continued, shaking her head a bit at the Ravenclaw, "Declare Minerva here the new Headmistress, and then leave."

"But won't Voldemort try attackin the school then? Knowin' …Dumbledore…" Hagrid choked out the name and then bravely went on, "is gone…"

"The new Headmaster, or Headmistress as the case may be," Remus said reassuringly to the small group as he sent a quick glance to McGonagall whose rigidity was beginning to crack under the circumstances, "Will be able to fortify the castle. Not as well as Dumbledore of course, but it should work for anything less than a full out invasion by Voldemort."

"What are we going to do with Dumbledore?" Harry asked in a small voice.

The others stared at him, surprised, as though they'd forgotten that the boy-who-lived-to-see-his-friends-and-loved-ones-die, was still there. Finally, it was Luna to once again step up and say, "We'll plant him a lemon tree."

Horrified, Neville, who had finally gotten himself together and wiped the tears from his face, stammered, "You…you don't mean…to make him into…a-a…" unable to say it, Neville just asked, "Do you?"

Luna answered, unbothered by the stricken looks everyone was sending her. "Naturally. Dumbledore really liked them. I think he would have liked to become a lemon tree."

Remus broke the thick, bothered silence that followed. "Regardless, we will find a place or means to keep Dumbledore's death a secret until such time as we can give him a proper burial."

Murmurs of agreement rang from everyone and soon, the group split up, Neville, Luna, and Ginny going on their way after Ginny had given her brother- and Harry- a fierce hug. McGonagall, Flitwick, Remus, and Tonks adjourned to the Transfiguration office to go over the details, and Hagrid went off by himself- presumably to his Cabin- to mourn.

Once they were alone in the hospital wing, out of earshot from Madame Pomfrey, Harry said to Ron, "Was Hermione…hurt badly when they left with her?"

"Well, she had lost her wand in the fight, and Bellatrix had cut on her a little, licked at her tears in a sick way after killing her parents before her. And Avery, while holding her, had roughed her up a bit. I remember she had a little trail of blood coming from her lip…_ Merlin…" _Ron breathed wearily. "_We've got to save her_…"

"I know…" Harry said.

"At least you three got the Horcrux, though," Ron said, a little disturbed with how utterly defeated and lifeless Harry was sounding.

"Yea…" Harry murmured, reaching into his pocket and cursing when he realized his cloak was still- hopefully- in Big Ben's destroyed clock room. He grabbed the cursed locket and pulled it out, turning it over a couple of times in his hands.

It suddenly dawned on him that the locket was neither as large as the locket he remembered seeing in the Pensieve, nor were there any makings upon it, no sign of the ornate _S_ that was supposed to be Slytherin's mark. Moreover, there was nothing inside but for a scrap of folded parchment wedged tightly into the place where a portrait should have been.

Automatically, without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry pulled out the fragment of parchment, opened it, and read:

_To the Dark Lord_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this_

_but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret._

_I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,_

_you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B._

Harry crumpled the parchment in his hands. "No," he whispered as the long-awaited tears finally came. "We didn't."

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_Extended A/N: We have now reached the end of the events of 'Half-Blood Prince' for my story's purposes. The rest of this will be an alternate 'Deathly Hallows.' While I'm beginning to formulate a direction for it and piece events together, I would greatly appreciate feedback and what you would like to see happen in the last installment. I can't guarantee I'll use it, but it would be nice to know your thoughts. Thank you for keeping with this story, especially with its long hiatuses, and for being so encouraging. Until next time, cheers! ~ HorseLoverTW _


	18. The Interim

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**The Interim **

_Disclaimer: I own not. All is the property of J.K. Rowling and I thank her for letting me play in her world and with her wonderfully colorful characters. _

_A/N: Huge thanks to those that reviewed! Here begins Deathly Hallows…Voldemort was surprisingly difficult to write. Special thanks for Riddle09 for their insights. Future Dark Lord in the making, that one. ;)_

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"It is only in the darkest of times when true light may be shown," Dumbledore's voice echoed across the Great Hall. "This school, and all those that call it home, remain the hope and future of our troubled world."

Hundreds of inquisitive eyes, some fearful, others confused, stared eagerly up at the dais from which their wizened Headmaster spoke. The whole school had been in uproar early that morning when news of the attack at Big Ben had been reported in the _Daily Prophet_. This, combined with the purple welts bruising Dumbledore's face and the announcement that the Headmaster was to give a very important speech to the student body only peaked their curiosity.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville were huddled at the end of the Gryffindor table, a bit away from the other students. Luna was wearing lemon earrings that morning and chewing thoughtfully on a licorice wand. Ginny sat between her brother and Luna but kept shooting Harry concerned looks, as though afraid he would melt at any moment. Neville's face was pale and his eyes still a bit watery. All of their clothes were rumpled and dark, purple circles had formed under their eyes from lack of sleep the previous night.

Ron leaned over to Harry, wincing a bit as he did so and whispered, "He's laying it on a bit thick, isn't he?"

Harry glared.

'Dumbledore' continued solemnly, "No doubt, you are wondering about my newest injuries. Aside from the pepperings that old age dutifully have provided, as well as the inherent risks that come with practicing magic," he waved his blackened hand, "Last night, I was the target of an attack by the agents of Voldemort."

The expected murmur rang up all around the Hall, but a raised hand from Dumbledore was all it took to quickly silence the four tables. "Though the attempt was unsuccessful," and here, Harry really had to give credit to Lupin because the Dumbledore before them was very nearly twinkling his brilliant blue eyes, "It has shown me that my continued presence to protect this school and all it stands for, would only bring more danger upon it."

At this, the students didn't even try to lower their voices. Shouts of protest and faces of disbelief filled the Hall and it took a bit more to quiet them this time as Dumbledore raised both his hands and said calmly but firmly, "Please. While I appreciate your sentiments, we must look ahead. I intend now to devote myself fully to the cause of ending Voldemort's darkness." As the crescendo of shocked gasps rung throughout the hall like an orchestra, Dumbledore held up his hands and continued, "In my absence, I promote the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall, to take my title." He raised a goblet from the Head Table, "A toast, I think, is appropriate."

More surprise as goblets sprang upward from every table filled with amber butterbeer. Harry winced unconsciously as he thought of the House Elves they had collaborated into this operation. Unbidden, the thought of Hermione surged to the forefront of his mind. As he had needed to at least six times in the past hour, Harry forcibly used his Occlumency training to rid the thought lest he go catatonic once more. He didn't know if he was close to snapping or if it had already happened and someone had just forgotten to send him the memo. Perhaps Ginny was right to look at him as she did.

"To the new Headmistress!" Dumbledore called, and only because he was looking for it, could Harry see the faintest of grimaces on the Headmaster's bruised face as Lupin kicked back another goblet full of Polyjuice.

Students all around Harry and Ron were nervously sipping at their butterbeers, looking for all the Wizarding World like a group of scared kids instead of Lupin's aggrandized 'hope for the future.'

But the toast had served its purpose. Lupin would safely have at least another hour to wrap up Dumbledore's final appearance. During the sleepless morning, Flitwick had pointed out that they would be cutting it too close with Remus speaking to Draco and Narcissa prior to calling all the students to the Great Hall and bidding them farewell.

Harry glanced over to the Slytherin table where Draco sat, his butterbeer untouched. That morning, McGonagall had called the turncoat mother and son into the Headmaster's office where a polyjuiced Remus had greeted them and affirmed their continued safety at Hogwarts. Narcissa would have to earn her small flat however, so, much to Tonk's amusement, Lupin/Dumbledore had suggested that she be prepared to teach a Home Economics class in the fall. When Narcissa had begun to protest, her niece pointed out that Andromeda had never had any difficulty with domestic spells and didn't require the constant use of a House Elf either. Narcissa had looked murderous.

"I can do those spells in my sleep," she had huffed.

Tonks had rolled her eyes. "Well, then it should be no problem teaching them to eager young witches and wizards then, eh?"

Narcissa had begrudgingly agreed and had even thanked the Headmaster before she and her son vacated.

Back to the moment, Draco appeared contemplative- in Harry's mind never a good thing- but seemed to be accepting the masquerade for the moment. Dumbledore took his seat while McGonagall rose to give a few remarks. At the back of the room, as the rest of the Hall was giving a tentative round of applause, another student from the Slytherin table quietly left, breaking into a sprint as soon as they had made it into the vacant entrance hall.

Pansy Parkinson seemed to have something very important to do at that moment. Harry and Ron exchanged a knowing look, as up on the dais, the smallest of smirks appeared, somewhat out of place on Dumbledore's lips.

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In a gloomy gray room far away, a group of black cloaks and hooded faces sat around the dying fire of a modest hearth. Their postures were tense, and the eerie flickering light of the flame did nothing to assuage their anxiety.

The aged furniture was arranged in a conference style, horseshoe shaped. At the focal point sat a slender figure, its skin pearly and almost glowing in the near dark. It had no hair, but vertical slits in its red eyes that, along with the flattened nose and unsettling stillness, gave it the appearance of a great human snake.

"Quite the night…" the snake hissed softly, its cold utterance freezing the others mid-conversation. Dark, hungry eyes turned fearfully to their master as he continued contemplatively, "I confess myself _disappointed…_" A few members in the gathering jerked several inches lower in their tattered seats and exchanged worried glances. A moan was heard from the corner but they appeared too afraid to look in its direction.

If Voldemort noticed, he didn't show it. "Disappointed… in our enemy." A sigh escaped from a particularly hunched figure, a glimpse of silver escaping the folds of his cloak as he shifted. "Though I am not surprised. The old fool's trust was his downfall." At this, Voldemort turned to Severus, seated prominently to his right, his flattened nostrils flaring in excitement as he hissed, "No doubt feeling triumphant when the cabinets were destroyed, Dumbledore's death comes that much sweeter."

Now addressing the entire ensemble, Voldemort proudly assured, "This entire endeavor was set into motion when I planned for the Malfoy brat to fail. The only unscripted matter was the wizard that came to Dumbledore's defense in his last moments. Tell me again what you saw."

Bellatrix eagerly leaned forward in her seat, her barely contained glee at being in her master's presence and able to be of use to him bringing a giddy red blush to her pale, hollowed cheeks. "He came from behind us, out of nowhere, my Lord. Right as the muggle's horrid tower exploded in those nasty chimes."

Voldemort looked unimpressed by her revelation. Just as Bellatrix was about to continue, hopeful to redeem herself, Severus silkily interjected, "If I may, my Lord?" Voldemort inclined his head the barest fraction of an inch, a ghostly twitch on his thin lips at the hate with which Bellatrix was glaring at Snape. "I was closest to the intruder. I believe it was that upstart Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, that rushed past me and dove out the clockface."

"LIES!" screamed Bellatrix, her manic eyes fastened on Snape's. "There was short black hair, like a boy's!"

His arms folded and the rickety wooden chair he balanced upon two legs looking as though it were a high-wire act, Actaeon Avery curled his lip before snidely remarking, "Couldn't have been Belly's pink-haired bitch niece, anyway. She'd of jumped Fenrir here, as I hear is her habit."

The werewolf howled with laughter as several sniggers sounded around the half circle while Bellatrix's eyes smoldered at just about everyone but her master. Her crackling voice lowered for once, she coldly stated, "She's no niece of mine. Andromeda was erased from the Noble House of Black as soon as she ran off with that filthy mudblood."

A soft groan once more issued from the corner.

Avery smirked. "And what of your other sister?"

Just as Bellatrix began to pull her wand, Voldemort commanded, "Enough," and Bellatrix reluctantly sat back again but her eyes remained fixated on the brazen Death Eater. For his part, Avery continued to lounge recklessly in his creaking chair and silently laugh at her.

Only his eyes showing any emotion- the barest hint of amusement at the insane witch's predicament- Snape reported to Voldemort, "Nymphadora Tonks, as I'm sure my Lord is aware, is a member of the Order of the Phoenix as well as a Metamorphmagus, making her a formidable Auror despite her…poor taste in associates. While it could have been…" Snape lazily dragged his gaze to Bellatrix and then dismissively uttered, "_Potter_…I fear some are seeing things they want to rather than that which is in front of them. Potter, as I have informed on numerous occasions, exhibits none of the talent he is believed to possess."

Voldemort grinned ruefully and gestured for Snape to continue. "While no one can be entirely sure due to the number of spells flying about, it is much likelier that Auror Tonks was the one to attempt the save. With regards to Narcissa Malfoy, I was consulted with Dumbledore shortly before he had sent me out on what he thought was the Order's business. She and Draco are seeking refuge within the castle."

Voldemort's red eyes danced in the firelight. "Lucius will be _so_ worried… we must speed our takeover of Hogwarts then. With Dumbledore gone, the school will be easy to control once we have taken over the Ministry. As soon as we liberate those at Azkaban, we will move on the…

There was a tap on the window and Avery lazily flicked his wand, opening it to emit a tawny barn owl. "A message from the kiddies at that delectable school?" Fenrir asked, his unnaturally sharpened yellow teeth exposed in a frightening grin.

Voldemort's skeletal fingers nimbly plucked the note from the owl's proffered leg. The bird lingered for a moment as he began to read, expecting a treat or a pat only to stumble backward as Nagini lunged for it. The owl squawked indignantly, its feathers littering the dirty floor as it dodged the very large, very hungry looking snake.

From the corner, a soft whimper came, followed by the sound of shuffling.

Distractedly, his slit eyes still on the note, Voldemort waved his hand at the corner and hissed. Nagini gave one last, half-hearted lunge and then slithered back to the corner. The owl, its small chest heaving, timidly returned before the Dark Lord and stood very still.

Voldemort pinched the tiny note until smoke appeared, and finally the paper seemed to combust of its own will. The owl, as well as the Death Eaters awaiting Voldemort's next move, shrunk back in terror.

Voldemort ran his wand lengthwise over his palm and a small scrap of paper with elegant script appeared. He slowly attached it to the owl's trembling leg. "See that this finds its way to the young witch that gave you the note." The owl didn't need anymore prompting and quickly took off, nearly running into the wall beside the window in its haste to flee.

No one dared laugh though because the Dark Lord now stood, pacing a bit before the hearth until he pivoted very suddenly and _crucio-_ed Fenrir, simply because he seemed to be the closest. He didn't cease until the werewolf began to cry, the veins in his hulking arms and forehead throbbing an impossible beat.

In a tone so deathly quiet they had to lean in to hear, Voldemort whispered, "_Dumbledore lives…_"

Bellatrix's mouth opened like a gaping fish as she began to sputter, whirling on Snape, "Bu…But the _Avada Kedavra_ hit him! I saw it!"

Voldemort flicked his wand at her and she crumpled to the ground in seizures as the _Cruciatus_ tightened around her. Her teeth clenched in a horrifying smile as she writhed.

Rudolphus looked away as Voldemort hissed as an afterthought, "_Silence…_"

Voldemort turned to Snape. Severus did not shudder or flinch at the threat but said evenly, "My aim was thrown off by the Auror. It is possible Dumbledore was not directly hit but I doubt the girl could have saved him from the fall in time."

Voldemort, towering over Snape, leaned down slightly, his red slits narrowed intensely on Snape's emotionless black eyes. "Then who just announced to _three hundred _students that they were retiring to hunt me down?"

"My cover was blown when I disarmed the Headmaster and tried to kill him," Severus deadpanned. "I cannot know whether the man this morning was genuine."

"Ah, clever Severus…" Voldemort leaned further in, his anger now rampant. "But you would certainly know whether Hogwarts can readily supply a brewed batch of Polyjuice."

"Slughorn keeps…"

"No!" hissed Voldemort, growing even closer to Snape's blank face. "You brew all potions for the Order. Polyjuice takes considerable time to prepare and a skilled touch to get right. Was this Dumbledore a fake?"

"No."

Voldemort screamed, a piercing, altogether unearthly sound, and everyone in the room melted away several paces.

As the noise dissipated, the only sound remaining was a feeble sigh of relief.

…coming from the corner of the room.

Voldemort turned away from his followers and focused on the elusive corner's lone inhabitant. He hissed harshly and Nagini very neatly coiled and gathered up the heap and deposited it in the center of the horseshoe.

"Still, the night yielded one success."

The heap shifted and matted layers of brown hair tumbled to the side to reveal an ashen face. A streak of blood still lingered on her chin and there were deep, very real bruises of purple and Slytherin green coloring her frighteningly pale cheeks. Trembling, she staggered to her knees and hands, lying almost prostrate before Voldemort.

"_Hermione Granger_…" He swished his wand upward and her limp body immediately followed like a marionette, her feet suspended slightly off the floor. "We meet at last."

Hermione, her eyes wide and red, said nothing as the Death Eaters behind Voldemort regarded her with varying degrees of disgust, hatred, and hunger.

Voldemort continued, the red of his eyes flickering on and off like sinister Christmas lights, "You see, I've heard so much about you from your dear friend, Mr. Potter. His mind is filled with memories of you helping him, caring for him…supporting him…" and here Voldemort nearly grinned, the most terrifying grin imaginable on his snake-like face. "It seems our Mr. Potter is quite taken by you."

The_ Cruciatus _hit Hermione like a thousand knives from every angle, every nerve point, and her strangled screams filled the darkened room for what seemed an eternity as every eye on the room focused on her midair convulsions.

Finally, Voldemort ended the curse, and her body slumped, aftershock spasms making her twitch every few seconds as tears littered down her maimed face and soaked into her shirt. Blood and skin gleamed like ruby dust under her fingernails where she'd clawed at her mouth in an attempt to staunch the shrieks. Her eyes were closed, almost peacefully, in contrast with the rest of her appearance and her arms and legs hung limply.

"Perhaps we can arrange for a meeting?" Voldemort suggested softly.

When Hermione failed to respond, Voldemort turned curiously to his followers. "Which of you disobeyed me?"

Bellatrix and Fenrir, both looking as though they'd been on the verge of asking if they could have a go at the unconscious Gryffindor, were oddly subdued when the Dark Lord's penetrating gaze washed over them.

Pettigrew seemed terrified more of Granger than of Voldemort at that moment, his beady eyes refusing to look anywhere but the left shoulder of his master.

Acteaon, Severus, and Rudolphus all kept perfectly blank faces, giving nothing away.

Satisfied once he had looked into each of their eyes, Voldemort turned back to the suspended girl, his curiosity morphing to suspicion. "If none of you have cursed her, why is she already unconscious?" The question was of course rhetorical and none of the Death Eaters made a sound as Voldemort slowly began to scan his bone white wand over Hermione's motionless form.

He straightened after a moment, his composure ripped away in a show of absolute rage before he spun on his astonished follows and screamed, "LEAVE US!"

After the six had fled the room, only Voldemort, Nagini, and Hermione remaining, he roughly pressed his wand tip against her temple and hissed, "_Enerviate_."

Hermione's brown eyes fluttered open and blinked in horror when she saw the face of the Dark Lord only inches from her own, his wand still trained at her temple.

"Tell me, Ms. Granger, how did you enjoy my potion?"

She regarded him, fearfully, but said nothing.

"_Very well…"_ Voldemort murmured before using Legilimency to crack through her mind. Only, it didn't crack, it didn't even splinter as muddled images of blurry, abstract shapes assailed his vision and he wrenched back in fury.

"What's this?" he asked in disgust. "Did that old fool actually manage to teach something useful to one of his beloved students?"

Hermione stubbornly clung to her muteness, focusing her stare off into the distance.

His slit nostrils flared but he quickly reined it in, shrewdness coloring his next carefully chosen words. "With the hope that you'd carry his secrets to your grave. How very Dumbledore of him. You know, the old fool abhors confrontations. That's why he constantly finds puppets like Potter and yourself to do his dirty work."

Hermione gave a rather dead-sounding laugh. "Unlike others."

Voldemort considered her for a moment, decided the _Cruciatus _and the ensuing _Enerviation_ spells would only waste more time, and then said, "No, my followers know that they shall receive the benefits of a world without," he sneered at her, "_filth_, as well as power beyond their wildest dreams through their loyalty. What has Dumbledore's omnipotent leadership given you? Has it granted you great treasures or given you love? Has it saved Mr. Potter his nightmares, or the werewolf his job? Has it protected his Order or…" here he paused and then whispered softly, "Averted the death of your parents?"

Hermione's teeth clenched and a strangled growl ripped from her throat. "If you're going to kill me, just do it." As an after thought, with rancor in her words and malicious revenge in her weary blood-shot eyes, Hermione added, "Nothing's worse than death to you, right?"

His wand, which had momentarily dropped to his side, flashed upward, the tip resting between Hermione's eyes.

"_Avada Ke_… he stopped abruptly as Hermione flinched. When she cautiously reopened her eyes, he leaned in toward her ear as though to whisper a secret, delicately pushed back her bushy, tangled tresses and hissed, "Everyone fears death."

Her revolted senses clawed inside her to run away, to scream, to spit at him, but all she could do was float there in suspended horror.

Voldemort, seemingly satisfied of his terrorism, stepped back and calmly said, "Now tell me what happened to the locket."

A long pause and then, "No."

"_No_?" Voldemort repeated in disbelief.

"No," Hermione fiercely affirmed and for the first time, her chocolate gaze was the one to settle onto his, passion replacing all terror. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that I don't fear death, but there are some things I fear more."

Looking bored now, Voldemort stared at her as though she were a particularly annoying ant, and then hissed in Parseltongue to Nagini, who had been lurking in the shadows. The large snake nodded solemnly and slithered out the room, returning a minute later with Severus Snape in tow.

Snape ignored Hermione's searching look. "My Lord, you requested my presence?"

"Bring me a drought of Veritiserum," Voldemort commanded, his attention still coldly trained on the Gryffindor.

Severus cocked his head slightly. "Ms. Granger is known for being an insufferable know it all, but refusing to answer a question? You are to be congratulated, My Lord."

Voldemort finally turned to Snape, his look not amused.

Snape said, "I can have some prepared for you in a month's time. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to remove my stores from the castle without raising suspicions."

"That is two failures in one day, Severus." Voldemort let the threat ring in the air before he said, "See that you do not disappoint me again."

Snape gave a low bow. "Yes, My Lord." And then with a swish of his cloak, left the room, his bat-like form billowing out of sight as he descended the stairs just outside the room.

"WORMTAIL!" Voldemort hissed, the noise making Hermione wince.

Peter Pettigrew appeared a second later, his twitchy fat fingers wringing. "Y…yes, My Lord?" He stuttered needlessly, his beady eyes trying to meet Voldemort's heady gaze.

"You will see that the mudblood does not die. If she does before Snape completes the potion, then you will join her. Understood?"

Wormtail nodded vigorously.

Voldemort proceeded to exit the room but then paused at the doorway just as both inhabitants had been prepared to breath a sigh of relief. "Oh, and Wormtail… keep Bella away from her." Voldemort's red eyes flashed, boring nearly all the way down to Hermione's soul with unspeakable promises of agony and the cold release of a slow, lonely death. "The mind is a terrible thing to waste."


	19. The Girl in the Globe

**Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison**

**The Girl in the Globe **

_Disclaimer: I own not. All is the property of J.K. Rowling and I thank her for letting me play in her world and with her wonderfully colourful characters. _

_A/N: I have no excuses. Thanks for feedback. My muse is slipping away from me. _

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Crystal flakes fell on Hermione's wintry-red cheeks. Her Gryffindor cloak clutched tightly around her, she sat huddled against the tall stonewall of one of Hogwarts' largest turrets. Her gaze was haunted and intent on something far in the distance that only she could see, her eyes bloodshot and her entire presence exhausted.

Harry nearly cursed as he watched his own tiny double uselessly trying to comfort her. It was like the tiny snow-globe version of Hermione couldn't even see him.

Heaving a sigh of despair, Harry roughly pushed the Christmas gift aside, his head falling into his hands as he doubled over in grief. He couldn't tell how long he stayed like that and didn't notice when the door of the dormitory opened.

"The last time I was in this room was at the end of my sixth year," Remus said by way of entrance. "Your father was in that bed, and he was as close to tears as I'd ever seen him. See, he'd just about decided to give-up on Lily – even Sirius told him it was time to move-on – but he still had a little hope, because he knew she was the right one, and he knew there was still the smallest of chances. I think that's why it hurt so much." Remus was no longer polyjuiced, but he looked particularly old that afternoon, as though the previous night had further aged his greying head. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat himself next to Harry and placed an arm comfortingly around his shoulders.

Lifelessly, Harry asked, "Did you have any brilliant insight on that occasion?"

"No."

At this, Harry actually looked up at the werewolf. Remus just gave a sad smile. "He already knew what his decision was; what he had to do. I just wanted to make sure he knew he wasn't alone."

"Thanks for that, but I have no idea what to do."

"Well, for starters," Remus said, standing them up, "McGonagall requested to see us."

"Do you've any idea why? I thought we'd covered everything last night."

"I fear that she wishes to discuss matters that couldn't be brought-up in front of the rest of the Order."

"Do you think we should tell her?"

"You're the one who knows, Harry."

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The pair proceeded to the Head's Office in silence. Harry was trying to figure out if he could step-up like Remus wanted him to, and Remus chose to let him be for the moment.

They ascended the spiral staircase - only sixteen hours after they'd last entered the room- when it had had a different occupant. As they entered through the oak doors, McGonagall was stiffly seated behind the desk, Fawks notably absent from his perch, and Dumbledore's portrait hung behind her, the rest of the room remaining unchanged.

Harry looked up at the painting of his mentor, which was only now visible as they'd expanded a bookshelf to obscure it during the meeting with the Malfoys. Dumbledore was sleeping peacefully, but to his left, Phineas Nigelus glared down contemptuously. Harry diverted his attention to the Headmistress and said without prompting, hoping to deflect the question he knew McGonagall wanted to ask, "The Gryffindors definitely believed it; the Ravenclaws too, if Luna's report is reliable."

"Harry, sit down please," McGonagall requested kindly. "Have a biscuit."

Harry declined the offer and took a seat as Remus conjured another chair in front of the desk for himself. McGonagall continued, "As I'm sure you both have guessed, I'd like to discuss what exactly you were doing last night."

Harry and Remus glanced briefly at each other, and Harry gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, which prompted Remus. "You will know in time, Minerva, but I was there, and even I don't know the full details of what we were doing," the werewolf looked back at Harry before continuing, "Albus chose carefully what information to confide in which people."

"Well, Harry?" McGonagall urged.

"Like Remus said, Professor Dumbledore planned who needed to know."

"But Harry, Albus's plan wouldn't have included…all that's happened."

"I think it might have." McGonagall opened her mouth in protest and even Remus appeared startled so Harry quickly went on, "At least some of what's happened I mean. Hermione suspected…"

"You're saying that the Headmaster allowed the Death Eaters to trap him, Mr. Potter?"

"It's possible, but in either case, I think it will be safer if we don't change the plan while we don't understand it."

"Very well. I won't press the matter," McGonagall responded, her lips pressed as thinly as they'd ever been.

Before the Headmistress could go against her word, Remus asked, "What will we do now? Do we have a contingency in case Voldemort decides that Albus _is_ dead?"

"We are ending the term early under the pretext of preparing for the transition. The students will return home tomorrow, so they will be protected if he decides to attack the castle."

Remus nodded and went silent as he thought of any other matters that needed to be attended to.

Once it seemed that no one else was going to speak, Harry asked in a small voice, "How are we going to save her?"

After a brief pause, McGonagall responded sadly, "We have no idea where Miss Granger is being kept, or how she's being kept for that matter. If we had a _spy_…" McGonagall stopped with a look that made it clear how much distaste she now had for the word.

Harry gave a defeated sigh, then wearily told them, "I need to go to London."

"That's out of the question."

"I left my cloak at the place…the tower. We don't want the Death Eaters to find it if they go back, and we definitely don't want a muggle to find it. Scotland Yard must be all over the crime scene by now. What if they accidently stumble upon an invisible piece of fabric? I don't think that would go over too well."

Before McGonagall responded Remus interjected, "I can accompany him, Minerva, Nymphadora as well. Besides, Kingley said that every Auror not at Hogwarts was dispatched there this morning for damage control."

McGonagall paused for a long moment before saying resignedly, "In that case, you may go. And I trust I needn't remind either of you to be careful."

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"You're really sure that traveling to London is the best of ideas?" It had taken about half an hour to collect Tonks and convince Ron that he was in no state to be traveling across the country. Both had about the same initial reaction.

At present, Tonks and Remus were struggling to adequately disguise Harry while Ron judged their results with skepticism.

"I seem to recall James telling me how extensively aurors trained in this sort of field," Remus teased, showing the first spark of life in his tired eyes since the events of the previous day had begun.

"Well I've never needed to practice disguising, eh?" Tonks defended with a huff. Harry noted that she secretly looked rather pleased that Remus was acting a little more light-hearted.

"At least no one will recognize you, mate," said Ron from a chair at the other side of the Room of Requirement. It was true that Harry's scar was no longer visible, but that was mainly because Tonks had succeeded in making his hair a half meter long – and green.

A little while later, after they'd managed to lighten Harry's hair to a dark strawberry blonde and shorten it to a length reminiscent of the Beatle's, given him a maroon West Ham United cap they'd swiped from Dean's bureau, colored his emerald eyes a deep hazel and made his skin a tone darker (that had been the only spell Tonks succeeded with), the three left the wards of the castle and side-along apparated to an obscure alley in London, from which they proceeded to Westminster.

Even from several blocks away, the crowds were becoming thick, and as they approached the police tape, Harry could here a reporter talking to the camera, "…at the Houses of Parliament where, late last night, a group snuck into the clock room where they set off a snake-shaped firework that destroyed the eastern clock face. Presently, inspectors are evaluating the crime scene and assessing the damage. Initial reports that two people were seen jumping out of the tower appear to be false, but we can verify that a similar firework was spotted at the scene of an apparent arson in the London suburbs…"

Harry quickly guided his two companions away, unable to hear any more.

"What's the plan?" Tonks inquired. "How can you make it past all of the muggles? We can't stay out here and wait for the crowd to thin."

Remus gave Tonks a small grin and moved his hand to her lower back. "You, my dear, shall play the part of a reporter…a very distracting one…"

"Shouldn't be too difficult," Tonks smirked up at him, her hair inconspicuously changing to a more tailored cut, her eyes becoming a mesmerizing sapphire blue. Indeed, the slight alterations made her very hard to look away from, as evidenced by the transfixed gaze she was receiving from the werewolf. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, "What will you two be doing?"

"I'm sure we'll figure out some way to sneak up there…" Remus whispered vaguely, still amused with the younger witch.

"If you're sure," Tonks said with a nod, her wand changing to a microphone with the merest of flicks, "I'm off to investigate then. Make sure I'm not covering any additional arrests at the scene of the crime?"

"Indeed." Remus moved his hand from her back to her face, where his fingers tenderly traced her check for a second before he turned to Harry and the two headed off across the street toward the government office buildings, slightly away from the throngs of reporters. Harry heard Tonks as they were leaving, _"Whotcher! What's happened, luvs? My network was on a bit of a drag this morning. Can someone fill us in? Oi! You there!"_

"She'll have them wound around her fingers in no time," Remus muttered fondly with a shake of his head as he led Harry toward a red phone booth, very similar to the one that led down to the Ministry.

Harry didn't doubt it so he instead asked, "So you think I can just fly in there like I did last night and no one will suspect a thing? What about when I have to shift back in order to grab my cloak?"

"Here," Remus said, rapping his wand held fist lightly over Harry's West Ham cap. A cold feeling like liquid eggs running down his head to his toes from the impact site made Harry give an involuntary shiver as the disillusionment charm chameleonized his appearance. "James, Sirius, and Peter would often disillusion themselves before changing so that if they had to shift back for any reason in the open they wouldn't be immediately spotted. We figured out that the charm holds for a certain amount of time regardless of shifting."

"Does it hold during your shift?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Alright, well it's still better than nothing," Harry sighed as he made to enter the phone box. Remus halted him.

"Meet me back here when you've got it. If you take more than twenty minutes, I'm going to come looking for you," he promised.

Harry nodded and proceeded inside the booth. It was disgustingly grimy and littered with racy ads almost wall to wall, some even covering the outdated black phone. He ignored them and focused on the feelings stirred by his animagus and a minute later, when Remus pretended to enter to make a call, a small dark bird flew out.

As expected, Harry had no problems flying up into the tower. Once he was inside, however, it became clear that actually retrieving the cloak would prove to be a challenge. There were dozens of people scuttling about: inspectors were probing the entire room for evidence, architects were measuring the damage and trying to figure out what it would take to restore the huge clock face. Photographers were taking pictures of the scene, and a few others seemed to be just milling about. There was no way Harry could transform without being noticed, disillusionment charm or not. If he knew where the cloak was, he could transform under it and be invisible, but he couldn't remember exactly where he'd thrown it.

Minutes passed with Harry gazing down on the room from a perch on top of the machinery that normally ran the clock, though it was shut-off presently. Just as he was beginning to wonder how long he'd have to wait for enough people to leave, there was a boisterous pronouncement from the entrance.

"Everyone is to clear out now. This scene's been promoted to a homicide investigation, and I don't want any of you to interfere with my initial search!" Remus was standing at the door and had somehow managed to procure the uniform of a chief inspector.

"_Homicide_? There isn't even a body! I'd like to see your credentials sir," one of the inspectors said crossly.

"Certainly. This is my assignment," Remus replied smoothly as he withdrew a page from his pocket and held it before the inspector, "And as for the body, we've just received a report that a body may have been found down stream in the Thames, and we're not taking any chances."

From his vantage, Harry could see that the paper Remus held up was blank, but he could also barely see the tip of Remus's wand protruding from his sleeve and making contact with the paper, so he was not surprised when the inspector took a step back in astonishment and announce, "He's right! We all need to leave immediately." With a few shrugs and quizzical expressions, the other people proceeded to exit, and Harry thought he heard the Inspector mutter, "We definitely don't want to botch _this _investigation."

"Are you sure you won't need any help, Mr...?" It was a different man who spoke this time, and the deep voice seemed very familiar to Harry. Turning towards the sound, he gave a small chirp of surprise as he realized that the dark-skinned man was Kingsley Shacklebolt. There were so many crowded into the room that Harry hadn't even noticed the Auror.

"Johnson," Remus said without hesitation. "I suppose that one person wouldn't hurt. Would you be willing, Mr...?"

"Shacklebolt," Kingsley replied.

The two stared at each other questioningly while everyone else filed out. Once they were satisfied that no one was within ear shot, Kingsley asked evenly, "What are you doing here, Remus? And _what_ in Merlin's name did you tell him?" he pointed towards the door through which the inspector had just exited.

Instead of replying, Remus wordlessly cast the _Patronus_ charm, a silvery fox leaping from his wand to sit on the floor obediently, its white eyes trained calmly on Kingsley.

Kingsley nodded and pulled out his wand. When his lynx patronus appeared, it sat down in front of Lupin's fox and the two silently regarded each other for a moment before they both evaporated into nothingness in a wispy silver shimmer.

"I'm here to clean-up for the Order. All I told the inspector is that a body might have been found in the Thames estuary and that the whereabouts of certain high-ranking MPs hadn't yet been confirmed. I suppose you're here to clean-up for the Ministry?"

"Of course. Was all that really necessary?" Kingsley asked.

"Well I would have liked to complete this outing without creating any massive conspiracy theories, but I think it was warranted."

"What really happened, Remus? I've been kept in the dark by the Order and all the Ministry knows is that _Morsmordre_ was cast here at midnight last night." Kingsley asked, his large frame leaned against the charred wall, his arms folded as he steadily regarded the werewolf. "Someone had to have died here, yet the most likely victim gave a rather public address this morning."

Remus closed the distance to the Auror and cast a silencing charm. Harry hopped a little closer to hear as Remus quickly explained in a hushed whisper, "Dumbledore is dead." Kingsley's eyes widened and he looked like he was about to protest, but Remus held up a hand. "We're unsure if the Death Eaters know or not. The students will be out of Hogwarts soon at any rate so the risk is minimal there. Headquarters will need to be moved."

Kingsley absorbed the news for several moments before he finally breathed, "…Who?"

"It was Snape. He's revealed his true loyalties."

"Are we sure? Who was there besides Dumbledore?"

"Would you mind standing lookout while I finish-up here?"

Kingsley regarded Remus wearily for a moment, but nodded and proceeded out the door nonetheless. Assured that Kingsley wouldn't hear, Remus looked at the bird on top of the machinery and said, "It's safe now, Harry."

"Thanks, Remus. I was worried I'd have to start rooting around for worms before I'd be able to transform safely," Harry said after flying down and becoming human again.

"_I_ was worried that you'd take the chance to leave Tonks and me to go hunt down Voldemort yourself, Harry," Remus said somewhat sarcastically, but, when Harry tried to hide a guilty look, he added consolingly, "Your father'd probably have rushed off if Lily'd been taken..."

"I considered it, but when I thought of Hermione, I knew that she'd never forgive me for doing something so stupid...I suppose we'd better find the cloak before anyone asks their superiors what they should do."

"Indeed. Try to go through exactly what happened last night."

"Professor Dumbledore was standing there, surrounded by the Death Eaters...I climbed down that staircase with the cloak on, and when Snape..." Harry was having trouble controlling his voice, so Remus tried to fill in.

"So you would have cast _expelliarmus_ about here. Since you were holding your wand, you would have thrown off your cloak with your left hand as you ran to the window. That puts it about..._hello_," Remus exclaimed after sweeping his fingers around the area he'd indicated. He lifted up seemingly thin air until the watery grey material of the cloak appeared in his arms.

"Why do you think it was invisible?" Harry asked as Remus handed him the magical item.

"This would explain it," Remus said as he bent down to pick something else up off the ground.

"Is that - Dumbledore's wand, Remus?" Harry inquired, unsure why finding the Headmasters wand should somehow make the room colder, and more surreal.

"It is," Remus answered as he looked intently at the piece of wood in his hand. "I didn't realize he didn't have his wand on him. Wizards aren't supposed to be buried without their wands."

Just then a sound came from the door, and Remus pushed Harry behind one of the machines, whispering, "Fly to the phone booth, I'll open it for you to transform when I can."

"Are you finished, Remus? That inspector is coming back up," Kingsley said in a rush.

Easily switching back into an authoritative voice, Remus said, "Yes, I believe I've found everything I was looking for. Thank you, Kingsley,"

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Having just witnessed the death of her parents, as well as being locked in an unknown manor with Voldemort and his minions milling about who knew where and her magical reserves as frazzled as her hair, Hermione Granger probably had bigger things to worry about then whether or not Professor Snape was truly out of Veritserum.

However… having been locked in a room with a foul, loathsome cretin who had been avoiding her eye contact at all costs and giving her nothing better to do than contemplate her pain and loss, she found herself clinging to the possibility that maybe she did still have a few things going in her favor:

Her mind was still her own. The most terrifying part of the cruciatus was remembering Frank and Alice Longbottom. Pain was meaningless next to insanity.

Her animagus ability was unknown to Voldemort and his supporters, even Professor Snape. She might be able to pull a Sirius and save herself before Harry could be given a chance to do something stupid.

Voldemort could not kill her until he knew of the fate of his horcrux. There was the very strong possibility that he would go and try to ascertain its whereabouts himself- which would prove catastrophic to this particular advantage- but until such time, she was safe.

Which led to the greatest thing Hermione had in her favor- Professor Snape. In her mind, it was no coincidence how strongly Snape pushed for Tonks to be the one in the tower over Harry. He had also stalled Voldemort with the Veritiserum. There was no way the Professor didn't have a stash of Polyjuice and truth serum somewhere. He was still on the right side, just so far in, he couldn't reveal it. She felt sure of it. To doubt that was to give up, and she wasn't quite defeated just yet.

She shifted in the scratchy woolen blanket Wormtail had thrown at her, clutching the fabric tighter around her ragged frame. She sat huddled against the wall of the room the rat had shoved her in. It had no windows, only a small, soiled cot and a bucket they expected her to defecate in. Hermione gazed intently at the door, her mind whirling. She felt frayed around the edges and broken inside but there was still a piece of her working, and as long as she could think, she knew she could be free.


End file.
